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J.B.

Voided

I stood at the edge of the forest
The tree line rose like a jagged rampart
A demure moon cuts the negative space of every shadow
Silence swells the air with an eerie static
This hollow sound reverberates in my chest
The cold numbs my blank stare
 
Filled with emptiness
 
A Perfect black mirrors my glare
My own personal abyss
A stir of darkened vines rise
Indifferent, I look on as they take hold
Tightening their grasp on my soul
I can feel my battered form pulled to it’s knees
A silhouette filled with what was me
Becomes wretched and curled
 
As it’s slowly dragged from this world

(2013)

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