Conjure thought of a once angered soul.
Quick to rage and violence.
Delving into mindless indulgence.
Darkness forever exacting it's toll.
Hearing nothing of the whispers.
Echo of the life lost:hers
Burrowing deeper within the subconscious.
Begging to return to the light.
No whispers could cure his blight.
There was no loyalty breeding fidelity leading to love.
Only the next conquest forming into physical satisfaction.
Whatever decency held in traction.
Only empty pleasure to think of.
Time passed with molasses speed.
It was all pettiness.
Darkness leading to pain merging with despair culminating in emptiness.
What motivation is there for shadow?
A soft silhouette hiding from the sun.
Only street walking scum.
Winter winds breathed as a death rattle.
He sat in the market with the rest.
Listening to their endless prattle.
Mindless amorphous cytoplasm.
She walked in gazelle grace.
A hard dry nucleus.
What was it about the sunshine in her face?
Honey dripped from her voice.