Before the Ruin,

I was But An Indignant Youth,

Bruised by the Notion of Eternity.

I found solace   

In the paradox of a godless existence,

And the impermanence

Of Organic Philosophy.

Our blood sings.

We Are Alive.

 

When Ruin Found Me,

I packed my leather satchel

With Salt Rocks and Mildewed Limes,

Stainless Steel Butter Knives,

And Rotted, Wooden Picture Frames.

I traded Panicked Pavement,

And Canvas Sneakers

For scraped knees and Cortisone,

Venturing Through haze and dust.

We Are Unknown.

 

I Evaporated In the Holy City

My lungs whispering,

As they gulped the Metallic Air.

The scent of red iron

Clung to the stained Steps

Of the Justice Building.

Half the Man He was,

The Man Hung in Halves.

Chained to the Columns.

My Bones Scrape in My skin.

Forgive Us, God.

Save Us, God.

We Are Broken.

 

We met at the City Limits,

And exchanged estranged stares,

Your breath ghostly and cold.

We cracked soup cans in the quiet rust

Of a subway station.

As graffiti dripped from the cement safety,

We examined our Blackened veins

Under the cinnabar blaze of a single cigarette.

We Are Haunted.

 

The World Wastes.

The Ruin Twists Metal and Men, ALike,

Until Murder Breaks Their Minds.

We Lay Silent In our Resolve,

As Epidemic Takes Us.

Among The Skeletons of Skyscrapers,

Collapsed and Corroded.

We Are Forgotten.