Claim to My End

Thoughts

like words

on a page

distinguish a

clearing of view

weave and organize

the darkness in the mind

tear the corners constricting

this, shadow of my elusive intellect…

Each word unravels the ideals and the

genius in my hands and the pieces know

where the paths so inclined turn; and I seek

amidst the din, as my heart, and my ideas

are at war, fading fast, wearing thin…

Loose pieces stopped, by the lies

and the fog, that clouds a more

telling way, and I fall wearily away

aimlessly turning from these musings

of quickly passing brilliant breath…

To pause, to pick, to start these ends

the true thought whispers; seek

the shots, lay claim to a fleeting

hope’s faltering’s, mute essence

somehow my sight, my errant

fading solace cannot clutch for

that dimming stumbling moment

in which I lay claim to my end…