alone i stand in a place for two – no half to call my other.
no reason to my rhyme, that time has passed and now i AM the “other”.
from one to none, that place is taken and now i know no words –
nothing to stand between myself and abyss – the albatross my mother.
strong efforts, cursed, with death’s tips… no success to be found.
existence upon this firm land; becomes uncertain ground.
a lonesome howl from the door of death is heard across the floor.
and surprised i am at my own despair as i howl an hour more.
Excerpt from a future piece to be added too – Afterparty http://turnpagers.wordpress.com/