Endless

Did you reckon I’d just cease? Upon a smattering of words, And conclude I’m deceased?

This might is immortal, This spirit, an endless brawl. Let’s face the grim truth, My soul, it won’t fall.

I’m trudging through gutters, Inking, vaulting towards some grim fate. This is a climb This is life, Madness spewing onto desolate slate.

Time shrieks out all my forsaken names, The ones I renounced, The ones I still claim. A timer has started, And it feels rather rushed.

I’m scribbling for angels I’m bleeding for slient doves, Chanting with devils sleeping on discarded loves

I’ve awoken something older, Something I put far away. It’s not the whiskey, Nor the hunger, It’s the voice of the rain.

by Sebastian J. Blanchette