The Unlucky Clover

Invincibility principality primordial supernovas sober clovers

Psychosis erodes my opium oceans adrift in adrenaline apocalypse whiplash headaches forsaken by the breakaway

The world is placid insanity and I don’t know what’s real under the lightless ceiling

I am here, but I feel so alone, so unwanted

So unloved

So forgotten, like all my dead friends

I wonder if they remember me, in their segregated heaven

Where I cannot go

Even though we were not so different

I am my brothers’ keeper

The only one left to weep before death’s deception, the sceptre of a negligent emotionless reaper, a ocean bleeding from the cold freezer

 

And I realize this isn’t a pleasurable world, and I shouldn’t expect empathy from god’s unending renegade run renegotiating complacencies in hatred agencies agelessly watching us fade in this craziness

Avian plague fabrications lackadaisical pacification in a concentration camp concert of mozart’s lobotomy of mozzarella gorrilla hell zones bent on vengeance adamant animation restraining the brain of latter day saints, splatter rain quakes the remains of my body and mind, soulless spine to spit rhymes till the end of my times

Burdening doom marooned craters of erasure purposeless on the surface of the moon our world full, resolved diabolical, in the stomach of a beast, all-consuming beauty, musical movement, pushing into fruition

 

Remind me to cry when it’s over

And dry my reanimated rendition of a renovated clover, trees of ovaries, borrowing forests of tomorrow

Over the crescent moon with my sober tunes

Until I too fade away and decay, and wither unforgiven by time

Unforgettable meddling in the medley that devastates the hatred of my dreams

Never surrendering the unendless daydreams that blow away in the haze of a rainstorm, disorientated redemption

Let me drown again, incomprehensible

Author's Note

I very seldom reply to reviews, but I promise I read EVERY single one. I look forward to my next review, because it helps me learn. Even if it's just one word, I promise, I will be ecstatic to have the chance to hear what you have to say. Whenever you write something about my poems, or the themes of my poems, or criticize me it is not in vain. I will listen, learn and be thankful.