untitled

my head rings to the prose of dead poets
my life recants to the voice of forgotten souls

living on the edge of reality
wishing to dissuade into an illusion

struggling to fight over this obsession
overcome by the vagrancies of life

where do I go

what do I do

will someone take my hand

will someone thrust me into their love

will someone overpower this sense of foreboding

will someone ?

.sin