Failed Poetry Attempt to Portray My Funeral and My Much Deserved Decay
I apologize for this one being so long and unwieldy and ridiculous. I should edit it, but I can't bare to look at it anymore. My brain has fizzled out and forcing myself to finish this stupid poem and actually try to organize and make sense of my nonsense ramblings found in my notebook made me never want to pick up a pen ever again. But I inevitably will because without writing I am utterly useless. And the sad reality is that my writing is utterly useless, so I am, no matter what, utterly useless either way. I wonder what will happen to all of this when I die, but then again, I won't know once I'm dead so I suppose I really don't care. The void continues to call. Olivier De Sagazan - "Transfiguration" A Puppet Play for Joseph After He’s Dead Unnaturally billowing black curtains Flow down from a tearing void Colored like a bubbling oil slick Ripping through an unquiet atmosphere Populated with fluttering moths, Wailing faces painted on their wings, From th...