Pale Wax

as the wounded deer finds home in the dead leaves and soil below knotted roots and dried needles lay beneath departing warmth look out onto a vast and golden sea watching as all time repeats continually the passing swell of betrayal brings relief found in novel finality a complete loss of purpose well-meant intentions feed blossoming hubris pearlescent structures adorn the firmament overhead the soul spills out from form and falls forward pale wax runs down the length of the candle its the burst cyst of a leper its the sweat off a liar’s brow Why should there not exist invisible worlds? to project our souls into collected misery it's the spirit of god or the flame that burns in the throat extinguishing light perpetually blaspheming sinking inward ouroboric ritualism all bodies will shed all bodies will consume dried wax has pooled at the base of the candle its flame no longer illuminates this room the twisting smoke has long since departed as have the spirits who once resided there water settles and soaks through sediment it nourishes life and erodes this miserable planet we’ll do this forever this all repeats again you pray it will end but it never will