Incarcerated within the corpse-tinted ballroom of a winter night
I watch the icy butterflies seat themselves upon my naked palms.
So fast they die – the aconite of touch erodes their silver wings
Crucified angels – they slide like melted candle wax driblets
Falling in such a vicious idyll...
Capital punishment is executed.
Incarcerated within the eternal cul-de-sac of the December sky
I cringe defeated in the neon lights of the royal streetlamps
So fast they kill – their haughty gaze stings the frozen eyes
A depersonalized vagabond – I climb the snowbound highway
Getting closer to the Everest of death...
Anarchy of living is prohibited.
Incarcerated within the Bermudian triangle of simply being
I slowly forget the objectives once programmed into my head
So fast time goes – its murky waters drown my strangled soul
A mere phantom – I roam the snow-dusted alleyways
Seeking my murderer deep within the abyss of winter...
Death certificate is issued.
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