Addiction

Watching as he crumbles down, He waits
to feast upon his moulder and decay.
He finds it in his eyes, a perished shade
amongst the cadence fragmenting to flakes.
For his fate he’ll take upon His varmint veil
earned when listlessly wondering for days.
The darkest of those could write chapters they say
of addictions and a legacy repaved.
For his sins He’ll provide purgatory again
just to see the hues of fatality it makes.

Now his skin no longer feels the rain
and harder it becomes to stay awake.
With wider eyes perhaps he’ll starve the grave
or with a craving he’d find it just the same.

Jordan Baker
2015

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A Last To The Breeze

Dark-side-of-the-moon-NASA-animation

Ashes gyre a last to the breeze
enchantment, raise, to be seen.
Would you forget about me?

The shadows in the hollows creep
and they tell me I’m awake
in my dwell of taken seraph tone
where ghosts sway to whispered aches.

I can’t swim against the snow
catch flakes of deceit and feign
and maybe tell auroras not to glow
and shooting stars not to fall.
See them fly past all clemency
and hope pass the dark side of the moon.
If instead I could run to cease
then Lord, let me run to you.

Jordan Baker
April 2015