Hazy Days of Poems

Breach
Free of the untruths we recite,
Beholding reality for what is right,
Rise high your glass, in praise of man
understand his nature while you can.
Delicious in appearance, beware the cost,
for it shall bitter in taste with innocence lost.
Freeing my bonds to explore his night.
In this I find you will not like.
From in this depth you cannot fight.
No truth or lessons for me be taught,
It guides me in this soul I rot.
Soiled and raw with stench of death,
screaming, illusive, foul, be my breath.
In my solemned disillusion I lurch and writhe,
I am his grief, have no doubt,
a dispirited life, now cast me out.
In these wounds I will feel no more,
the scalding sun upon this tasteless sore.
Man hides behind his faceless disguise
always to parish in truth, as I live his lies.
Remove his harmony for I have become his past,
Thinking I could hold on to love, never to last,
Giving way to blackness, I belong to the night,
Down here in the shadows seeing the last of my light~
Viesta Morrison ~