You the fallen one, the one without a name, the one that met God.

the moist tip of my nose itches
my index finger presses on my eye globe
searching unto the socket for want of to do
feel the callous rub the iris
pushin' it firmly like it is the first time
recognizing a sensation, felt lost
cut off by the root, ignited by the wild waste
awaiting the pain, trembling in shame
an accountability to doubt placated by sound
be it the shouts, kings too merge in fantasy
safe travels met in silent whispers run amok
of our sorry state, nonetheless,
an idea cannot be exterminated
easily.

mold the ground, thy passage a myth
the fluctuation of the reference maddening (truly)
the fallen forest comes alive, erupt branches
sudden bloom springs into song, my head nests
birds of prey seek my liver and I am willing
shelter and shade, nurture and leisure
sustaining this p-perfect state makes one camp
gloriously satisfied to the core, accursed to quit it
the fires nightmare and the flesh a fair trade-off
little prince caress not hate, take guard against hostility
tough love is a thorn in my spine firm still
and no amount of alcohol can dilute the lesser man
I could never aspire to be, a foreshadow of projects past
nor the shadow of those that smelted me, goddammit
to erase ones essence is suicide in a swirling chasm of hate
and I swear I sought hard to be different, stronger despite the fact
the fissure on my reflection, my whole being a descent into the unknown
sought to aid another hopeful the product would feed a distraction
to the beast within there is only known opportunity, ever vigilant

a hummingbird sank my sleep effortlessly, am I dreaming again?
the pull drafts me anew, truly my calling come midnight
a murderer stands trial only once, no parole conceded, to the nines
a free solo that came to a close, slippery feet renew faith
and you might think you are in love, a trope of filthy cliche
and mellows like a poorly aged wine takes solace in the majority vote
resorted to a tutu, a distraction, 'yes' to us all will suffocate the euphoric
you lost the game that you hadn't paid for, yet.