Alone·ly

O' Lord, banish the sun yonder of past days.
I cannot stand its solar ulcers and pepper spray.

O' Lord, forgive me my hollow vows amid woeful needs; a stroll through candy corn clusters and wild blooming fields of fairy floss eats the enamel from my surface - so blistered is my skin.

O' Lord, I reckon me a lonely soldier unfit for battle, so, pick me up and heave me into the black ocean of emptiness, then, may I catch my breath and hibernate.

Like glowing coal skipping the frozen face of fishing ponds, I shall leap across the Milky Way on burning orbs of vapor, thumb out - a constant hitchhiker of infinite constellations.  

O' Lord, fold me into the forgotten space of fallen grace, where galactic strings of divine symphonies cease my insecurities.

One's terrene kindred shall soak the dying soil over somber sendoffs; with time, they shall forget my weary lips and broken eyes.

Beside sleeted oculi purple as the winter twilit Mississippi sky and shattered brims of the grinning jaw, I will be the watcher from the evermore, carving their history upon my swollen heart.

Whilst I float about the star-scattered high frontier, so shall I bath in their sunstroke paralysis, a blooming pasture of onion patches I can pick and graze upon from the shadowy placidity of everlastingly.