Woodchipped

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In your light,

I watch in shadow,

Frail and misguided,

A shaft deep,

In twisted inhabitance,

 

The tunnel of my vision,

Your glance,

Indulged and willingly grasped upon,

In a plain of nothing,

No ridges,

Fatigue slowly,

And the army trench,

 

The cheap breeze,

Smoke guttered and the smell of night,

My body untouched but incapable,

In these hours of clear night,

Thoughts obscured by substance,

It seems all is woodchipped.

Author's Note

Criticism is welcome :)