Once I spoke through words
meshing and combining
a path of rhythm
and imagery with which
to place my feet upon
on a darkly, rich
path through life.
But somehow...
lost in the art of tragedy
and thrown on this brink
of instability
I find that these lips
won't part.
They wish not to utter
a heed of warning
nor a shout
of protest.
Not even a sound.

We sit like strangers.
My tongue and my mind.
For I shall wander
up top for now.
Expanding this plane
and venturing
into such a fascinating
state of being.

For by his name I plea...

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