Sirens calling out for me
a song of sounds and entropy.
Degrading mind pockmarked with scars
undeterred by realities march
and I sing to them in tune
to my faulty minds gloom.
Soon I’ll be released by
restless sleep that breaches
every hour true
and in my dreams I hear them still
wailing out for my demise.
A song of bells and whistles
fallen bristles
tears me up inside.
Echo in my skull
long after gone
and rest is finally forsaken
look upon the dawn.
With tired eyes
grateful just to take it in
Picture 088



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