The Most Hurtful Game

Yonder the night breaks the silence,
Over the sullen mountaintops,
Under the pale, dead sky,
Losing the light beyond our grasp,
Our sweet solitude knows no bounds,
Singing sweetly into sanctity,
The light shall surely die,
Together we have nothing,
However, alone is mostly everything,
Even nothing itself,
Great minds once concurred,
Amidst all that can be considered,
Moreover, thou shall read,
Every first letter of each line.

Signs

As I awake from my sleep from morning to night

Awaking to the disappearing light

Dress up, groom down, and left to right

The ways I look when you’re in sight

Like feigning death in hostile land

I act, but the time is never at hand

I know it must be so hard to stand

Looking this way, toward your friend

Exchange greetings with dark despair

The face you give seems not to care

Act hurtful, peddle sexual wares

If not, just receive blank stares

Become a part of simple things

Sports and drinking, one night flings

Love attached to weakened strings

Act just like the scorpion’s sting

Obituary on page three

The picture on column one is me

I read the signs and from what I see

Death is the only way to be free.