Today, I think I want to die

Knees to chest at the heart of musing grotto

larvate in dregs like a neotrogla pest with body strict

siphoned mecca sprays abstract nihility

stiffs of soulful tenor covenanted absent of breath

slow dwindling insufflation

Ephemeral fruits glean redolence dead

dragon adumbration, pegged failure pullulate aggressive

monstrous orchards of mangled rot

mum sensuous chorus of stilted pleasure

arresting Siren pome in mortified stygian

All striking emulsion has wrecked to sobs

diffuse colored meaning, spattered burnt black perdu

quaver agog inquiring strokes of spurious passion

rivel deep within thyself all apocryphal assuaging purpose

misplace resplendent mercy at the firth of bitter cognizance

Neoteric reverberations dispossess life giving epistle

ideations cleave like throbbing extant melted wax

ruminations progenerate copies, buttressed cogent hissing

aver pain-giving cruelly “there's no such thing as gospel”

professed flames violently suffocate

Atrocious prayers viperous pointed with futility

vast endpoint deliquesces with crass dead terrain

depth of verve languishes with ripened pageant

libertine transpires as unfeigned marrow

lechers fill their pockets with diversion

Desires bewitch all corporeal kinesthesia of the foolish racing

dire crying senses paralyze into scanty dirt ridden prison

all motion concedes to hideous doomed demise

all feeling tends to a desperate pretense of worthwhile life

I know not love but a lie

Today, I think I want to die

Author's Note

I was told that this poem was too abstract to be enjoyed. Honest thoughts, anyone?