Broken Wings

Riding on broken wings,

shattered hopes,

dejected dreams,

all is without hope,

all without dream.

Picture after picture,

scene after scene,

fire, death, agony,

that’s what this Hell brings;

nothing but dirt I am demeaned.

I am falling.

Trapped,

these chains seem exceedingly tough,

it’s too much;

this torment is a blazing rush.

The clutch breaks,

I fall,

no cushion, no protection, no crutch;

the burn I touch.

Burned they are.

Into darkness I am brought,

no relief,

no expectations in belief

of hope impending,

a future non-ending;

too many notions

overwhelming my emotions,

resulting in this unending doom

of the inferno loom,

a treacherous tomb.

Doomed I am.

Every step I take,

in every move I make,

one foot forward,

two feet back,

barely above water awake.

Like leaves,

I am rigorously raked,

in water,

fiery flaked;

under the sun,

burning baked.

Nothing makes sense,

no, nothing at all.

This darkness,

it encompasses me.

It consumes, prunes,

it’s destroying me;

my heart severed.

It taunts,

haunts,

it’s killing me;

my heart bleeds.

Crying out loud,

it’s within me;

my heart,

inside and out,

filled with it.

They are broken.

This journey,

an impossible feat,

an inevitable defeat,

yet,

I continue, weak.

No turning back,

my past has leaked;

ahead,

my future bleak.

I am at the peak,

no peek,

unaware of what to seek.

Cut asunder they are. 

No place to call home,

an entity falls,

lost in the darkness

of it all.

This mountain tall,

my fall caused;

it’s an unbreakable wall,

stalling my progress

down this hall.

It is here that I fall.

I just can’t fly.

These dreams,

horrid demeaned,

maximum mean into me brings,

scene of despair,

torture,

and pain unseen,

hope is not seen.

Falling I am.

Much is tough,

roughly clutched

into such

I am crushed,

on crutch not,

rushing into this flame’s touch;

it huffs, puffs,

bringing me into such.

They are burnt.

Do you not understand,

this stand,

handed to the inevitable falling man,

quicksand in

on this land demanded,

heading me rather

into the hand of hell’s command,

fan not

in this hot desert land.

I am doomed.

In this flaming lake I am taken,

into a soulless creature make,

to bake,

into this scorching quake,

flakes of fire and brimstone raked,

only if fake it were.

Nothing at all makes sense,

no, nothing.

Ash I have become,

bashed,

dashed by this darkness’s grasp,

in me flashes.

Crashed here,

it rashes, trashes me,

me charred hash.

Broken they are.

My defeat in hell’s seat,

no feat,

my feet in singed beat;

bliss leak,

I am on a cosmic seek,

but everything is bleak.

They are cut asunder.

This calling,

failure

an inevitable falling,

all in this darkness tall,

walled,

stalled I am.

Fly,

I just can’t.

This tale,

my path derailed,

is a pail life

tragically misspelled.