That Olden Antiquity

Life fleeting, exponentially…
If not recursed, but threatening the very existentialism,
If not, then this shallowest life, so bleakly fouled with misery,
Shall cease its senseless pursuit, and will gleam no more,
But affront to be boundlessly free…
The pained remembrance…
The waned entrenchment…
This is but an attempt to find means to end that dreaded resonance, which echoes sadness’s and resplendence’s, to find the source of this great sorrow, to end the longing of tomorrow’s eternalising doom.
At peace, finally…into painless inexistence.

The fog rolls in…
The unwavering thunder of glory,
The unparalleled power, roaming.,
Amidst the precipice of the abyss…,
Gales of mists, shrouded in mystery…,
But misery…consumed in full, my being…,
My vitality, loftless and lost amongst and…,
Within the endless fogs, so thick and sightless…
Sorrow overwhelming, tomorrow underwhelming…

Love lost
Darkness fallen
Hearts never recovered
Disdain never faltered
Animus, the essence
Free us, this instance
Into harrowed oblivion, astray…
To this final day, bound, profound…
The profaned place, of heartache and disgrace…
Allot us, this moment under the sun…so glorious,
And feed us, so we may embark upon the sailing ship so endlessly ineptitude to emptiness, again, unto the fray…the sandstorms so compelling, the whirlwinds so perplexing,

The tsunamis so bewildering, and the life with mortality, deeply felt, so waning…
When despair comes, it comes unrelenting, and with full force.
We who worship death, until our last dying breath…from wayward to eternity,
The farther north, the colder forth…
The darker the essence, the starker the quintessential spirit,
Enthralled and consumed by that singular essence, of flickering darkness.

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