| March 8th, 1999

I wonder, wander
losing voice and grip
on what I once had held
in unsure truths
and watch this temple
of my failure
be erected by these hands
I’ve known but now just watch
they twitch in ghostly utterance
just the fractured impulses
of a mind that’s laid down
and now awaits
the coming of the end
with mask of smile
feigning innocence
for lack of understanding
hope is just a word
for taunting mistress
who holds my life
just out of reach
the key of logic
hidden in her secret places
I must kill this beast
to gain the knowledge
to truly be a man –
with no remorse –
I must try to find
what I have already become
and never breathe again

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