to be alone

in love and war

and all thats

in between

and never have

that soft sweet spot

where i am truly seen,

if ever i am

or ever i were

or might have ever been,

scarred sailed ship

sunk low in trench

original in sin.

And there in shadow

of deep regret

and ever stricken core,

where only young in fantasy

thought i

amount to more.

so lay i here

in dreams of death

beneath said cloud of lies,

with vacant heart

and placid mind

and bloody blinded eyes..

where hope has died,

and dreams decay,

and nothing ever grows-

and all i was ,

lays still to die-

in flattened

haunted

prose.