Chasing the Dragon

Pearls--blackly luminescent--fade

Under the burnt midnight oil’s parade.

They burn clear

Onto weakened corneas, thrown

Into sharp relief

And resplendent

Awareness of the now fragile hand.

Overwrought

By the perpetual, persistent

Nod.

Unable to break the glass film,

Left merely to wait

for tangled, dangled

Dreams

Upon the warring marionette strings.

Painted birds sing tainted words

And encircle half a memory;

Semi-ignorant to the significance

And blind to the influence

As the descent begins.

An ocean--blessed--struck

Deaf by unexpected voices

That wash to shore and break

As waves.