A Winter Earned

There’s a sort of perverse pleasure

In the evanescence of a winter earned
After being estranged from a fecundant summer

The sunlit hours of blissful days
Fading to the dismal hues
That lurk beneath a blinking Eutopia
To allude to the fact that all you’ve done
Is nothing more than your brood’s food

Prosaic poseurs pilfering their prior pastimes’ salvage
Practitioners of practical-pot-prosperity piously puffing away

To be cascaded by cumbersome encounters
With congenial dust-mite-muses in their paradise

Inspiration of fermintation brought about by age

Carmalized thoughts that cling to the back
Of your throat like turpentine kisses
Making your words blend together like wet paint
Eating away at your skull until they enter the lobotomy zone


Complacent composeur is kept in stifling silence
Shining light upon blasphemies cherished by dogmatic drones

The chill of finally belonging finding home in your bones
Atavistic urges avidly attempting to re-animate yester-years aspirations

The malignant malinoma of mis-spent masturbation, a Magnanimous refuse from malicously mutilating malevolence

Your highschool useless- heart
Passed-out at the foot of your bed

Hibernating the bleak days away in a fleece cocoon

Waiting to be ressurected by the onslaught of Spring
To be told by the blossoms’ whispers she’s better off without you


You lye awake wondering when the stars are going to die
Attempting to recipricate yesterdays excuses
to make it to tommorrow

By Necrologia

I like that which is aesthetic. My passion is poetic writing and romanticism. I'm open to most any experiance. I'm an analytical philosophical insomniac in addition to the previously mentioned. If you would like to know more e-mail me; otherwise I'm just another name on your screen.