Skeleton’s Truth

Only in the last breaths of midnight do the truths reveal
An ivory ribcage, dirty with elegance
Demanding recognition be paid to each cracked bone
And looking into these blue eyes, pupils pulsating with one’s heartbeat
The effects are fading, visual trickery seeking solace in the shadows
The skeleton holds dear, its frail shape standing tall
With those shaky breaths, life’s fragility hangs in the balance
And no matter your next decision, you will be standing
But only with a willpower earned
Can one seek to move each muscle encasing your physique
Or to guide fibrous connections towards a needed end


Weary Road

Mind numbing travels lead to the same old fork
Notches upon the tree trunk show my constant return
Ankles are caked in mud, my pants ragged with holes
Feet rest tenderly, bloodied and blistered
And as the humid dusk approaches
A decision to be made in the fading light

A left of pure chance, optimism for a place weary may rest
Each step cries with contact of stones and dirt
Last glimmer of sun
Nothing reveals beyond the beaten road
More trees, more distance
More trials of determination to a place on no man’s map

Lie upon dead grass, thorny weeds to stab meĀ 
Crickets are chirping incessantly
The worst lullaby to my mind so paranoid
A moon should illuminate some hint of comfort
Hazy vision halts nightmares of vicious beasts

When the body does rise again, muscles are rusted
Bones crack ominously
A bed might comfort me soon, and if such
Grateful slumber might guide me to a restful eternity