The Spectre of Silence [xv]

Mmkay, new project. I am gonna write a series of poems...that tell a story. Like a poetic version of a concept album. Chaa. This is part 15.

Procrastination- The Spectre of Silence {xv}

I see it all now.

The toxic fumes that surround me
seem to have been lifted.
Has the guilt finally been recollected?

I look to my enemy,
my nemesis.

The bitter, twisted vines
of burnt black hair
cascade into a negative
image of a firework.

The glittering green eyes
of yester year, those
eyes that held fear; they
seem dull, banal, and dank
as pond water.

He seems to be touched by death,
the winter wind affects him so.
The anorexic whispers
seem to clutch to his
so-called heart.

Like childhood secrets,
never to be spoken.

Pity, at this moment in time,

is my main weakness.

Wow.

I love it.

Pure pwnage.

Yes, pwnage.

I concur with the above statement.
You officially own me.