Labyrinth
Labyrinth
songs with no closure;
regret beats a solemn drum.
alice enchained paths to nowhere:
a house of reflections I can’t outrun.
confined by hatred’s vanity,
reliving terror, an R.I.P. rewind.
straight off the edge of insanity,
diving deeper, cornered in my mind.
cobwebs quiver, bounce in worry,
calling forth torture’s reprimand.
I strangle slowly, absent mercy
imprisoned in a twisted wasteland.
eternal silence oozes nightmares,
and ghost drown my daydreams.
darkness devours hope’s light flares;
my mind wanders playing schemes.
shrouded by the devil’s dealings
and wrapped in ruined rhymes.
swallowed by mixed feelings,
I’m trapped between two minds.
a graveyard of tortured ruins,
plagued by memories forsaking,
I’m lost in my head’s labyrinth,
a marred maze of my own making.
tortured by a noxious decision,
a soul made by its own mirage.
I’m cornered by a conscious collision
by hollow haunting of self-sabotage.
“this is not a place of honor;”
poisoned ivy creeps into my thoughts;
I’m my most formidable monster;
to flames of chaos, I’m the moth.
-kalika
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star-crossed lovers series, pt.2
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Under the Influencer
trampling and stomping
over bones trodden before…
heavy spikes for crossing
but the track’s tired and worn…
searching for the golden
waters of wonder that speak…
this fountain overflowing
promises at the tallest peak…
zombies climb the mountain
of sparrow’s hollow bones…
their countenances:
stone as they stare at their phones….
tearing fingertips til blood runs
to their elbows, wet with envy…
their infected wounds succumbing
to their insecurity…
steadfast, their unquenched brains
are ravenous and ready…
to forgo any and all sincerity just to gain
the status of celebrity…
from Ambrosia’s lips falls a tantalizing
spring of ichor…
til mortal blood-lust burns agonizing
right inside her…
the nectar of the gods is poisoned
the spiked-
punch runs deep; the smell poignant
as her psyche…
…implodes from banging insanity…
-kalika
You Can Find Me
all the commentary’s unnecessary
when i walk with those not at rest;
so i sit at the cemetery
when i need to clear my head.
they say death is hereditary,
so i don’t fear my final breath.
there’s peace in being secretary
for the thoughts left by the dead.
you can find me laying by mounds
beside the freshly dug up dirt.
i’ll be listening to the sounds—
witnessing silence go unstirred.
i stare longingly up at the clouds
wondering why i’m still here on Earth.
this’ the place to bury all my doubts
to pack down all my fear and hurt.
-kalika
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