a pagan's pyrexia

what happened...
running off with your heathen friends, skipping through
enchanted meadows of indulgence, and now
the sky, swiftly a shade of black.
the dark humor sifts into the air, and
your breath stale as the bitter wind
uncertain, no direction. only
every direction appealing
"in the moment."

the sin, caked around your ankles
pulling ligaments and stretching
your tolerance just so far.
so far, so near to your death.
what is unfamiliarity, truly your
best under those pastels
green and blue and
crimson red.

please, forgive me.
forgive you? please.
a chuckle for a cry,
when needed an escape
from your own fate you
sealed by an obstinate heart.

The stubbornness of this life,
exploding into existence as
a product of our ignorance
for weakness.

Crescent moon, cresting
over in shadows reflecting
the gloom.
Day sinks,
Night floats,
Good is gone,
and you're the aftermath.