Once effort falls,
So does the reward.
Lazily,
I hold my breath, but
My tongue moves without better judgment.
The practice shifts,
So the living drifts.
Careless,
I befell to the joke again.
Prey to play,
The wistful fool puts strangers on a growing pedestal.
But for some strange reason, I attracted
Beauty like never before.
She crossed my path,
But no more
Longer than a score of moons.
As days pass, I attempt to light the path
Of wayward lines
Without smudging.
So used to fighting the way,
An admitted coward,
I squeeze the blood out of life alone.
Failing to fail gracefully,
The errant child blames humanity.
My soul is all that’s left.
I found myself
Eight months ago,
Hungry,
Inspired.
Lest a return of the grandeur.
The sweet delusion
Teases without warrant,
Routinely returns nothing in favor.
Should my work pass as art?
Holding close
To self-defined rules and standards,
Catching
Terms never heard before;
These days
My words live
In a realm of free expression
Within the boundaries of a soulless confine.