Finding vanities twixt the insanities
Few heard, fewer listened to my call
Lost lucidity, in solitary soliloquy
To acknowledge this risks to also fall
On a whisper of tears, sorrow appears
And this spirit is redefined
Bereft of much, it’s killed such
Leaving naught that’s good behind
Rage employed against malice enjoyed
A perverseness in which I wallow
And I don’t dare, to say I care
For it’s a lie that’s too hard to swallow
Dare to pray or deign to prey
Dissolving my once firm control
Tomorrow seems vast, but is quickly past
And it is night still within my soul
It itches, it seethes, it festers, it breathes
Burrowing deeper into the sorrow
In the starkness, I bleed darkness
No hope horizons on the morrow
Raivenne-lations 
There’s something so alarming about the word “fester”. I can never put my finger on it, but there’s deep-seeded malice in that word. I think this is my favourite poem of yours—absolutely love it for the darkness and the use of alliteration and repetition (pray, prey).
Beautiful.
“It itches, it seethes, it festers, it breathes
Burrowing deeper into the sorrow
In the starkness, I bleed darkness
No hope horizons on the morrow”
Damn….. I feel that….
POWERFUL ending….
Yeah we need to get out of our anger and get back to flirting 😉 LOL what say u? LOL *hugs*
I feel this one.