Morphing In Mourning

Madam of tolerance
and fluid filled holes
I am sinking suffocate
my mask it controls.

I’ve got to for inside
I am not much to look
at so I rush here and
tell of the paths I took.

The drowning holes
are full of Jack and Rum.
Madam of tolerance I’m
affixed under a thumb.

Who I am sometimes
is the sum of a hurt stop.
Let’s be the ones in a
dream that time forgot.

Or maybe some of those
lost souls with no home.
They are everywhere so
let us eat our thrones.

Exalted I’ll try not to
feel so happy in your
arms where no harm
rests upon your shore.

This mask is tight and
I think it suits me so I
think it I will withstand;
I think who I was died.

3 Comments Add yours

  1. The intro is so dark and intriguing. Bravo.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hey, thank you for that.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. The pleasure is mine.

        Liked by 1 person

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