Image src: Michael Thorn

Awaiting dawn at the end of night,
I dream of the same empty spaces.

Poking at traces of fading reminiscence,
charting an old course in a destined flight,
I wake up to the same old dreadful silence.

Drifting in the comfort of daily sunlight,
I mingle in irrelevance with same old faces.

Escaping from survival in rabid frenzy,
sliding into a shell of solace in quiet,
I strangle in a cycle of relentless ennui.

Edging closer to the final precipice,
I languish in comfort of restful apathy.

Flapping towards that inevitable flame,
Trapped in a burn of blinding luminescence,
I surrender to a fate of familiar endgame.