Morphose.Katastrophe

indecision was all that grasped my attention, so
far as my lids stay opened behind the mirror of fortune.
I could only see.

Heard nothing as the banter of a silent room growled in my
temple, massaging the epicenter of her own voice. mother.
Where have you been all my life.

Quest for the children of valor, none of which had rights to bare.
They chose to show their love in the form of fear, right from wrong;
What an illusion it must be for you to see me, mounted on pedestal.

Posed in a daze of these purple hazes blown from side to side
Wallowed the the hollow of the trundle tree, blessed it may have been.
I tried preying even for something like a forgiving tone in the ether, beg
if you may, it said there was nothing in my head to be found.
so there i stayed..
With a declining whimper.

Obviously, i said i can't. no longer do I have have that quaint sensation.
A mist a moth, ignite into black flame and spread like wild weeds. there
again, may that purple should be violent, proper proper if you thieve to name it.
Plucked from the sea of my own vanity, the colors of light, ash, oblique to all else.