Lost

If you don’t run
Through the maze,
You’ll never get to taste
The sickening sweet haze
Of a lost summer phase,
When nocturnal eyes refused to rest.

Drizzles poisoned
With deserted stardust.
When do young hearts
Start to rust?
If the fall turns tangy,
Does the lesson last?

My pyre awaits me,
Yet I fear my ashes’ wrath-
Having to drown in a religious riverbed,
And remain shackled in this icy earth.
Forgive me dear,
I have been a miser by birth.

I see drowsy dust,
Costuming leaves undead.
Tears brew up,
Distilling visions left unshed.
If all the stars were from Hades,
Would your eyes still shimmer the same?

Empty pickle jars,
Soulless ants eternally in rest.
Ineligible cursive cursing,
Words hanging in haste;
Is this a journal
Or a dead man’s chest?

I hear thunder howling,
Or is it fragments of me growling;
Those I scattered under nightshade.
I yet yearn to forfeit---
This foul feeling to sing with a slit throat,
Flesh and bones, why is blood so red?