Deck of cards, odds only

Pile so high on my wall.

My mellifluous musings, lost in

shadows escaping darkness.


Fragments of forgotten keys, open up

My reliquary.

Effervescent visions of silver gleam, conceal

The hoard of beetles devouring rotten flesh.


Outside, waves crash on shards of glass,

A thousand days of still screams

Tarnish the floorboards with 

Luminous glops of iron.

  

Whisperings of candied psalms, reveal in

The valleys of my bones. 

My words, nothing but scattered nonsense

Colliding with tunes of sorrow. 

All entrapped in my vessel of skin.