Wolf Sea


for it’s a last

as last can be first

“they” say or “he”

Reminded of dreams,

his sorrow, the black sea.


Sunken–beyond deep in deprivation.

Listen to his depravity.

That first wall,

now last,

–Pitch black–

His clear room, stripped–

shown for it’s true cracks,

Patches of no more,

for no excuses hit his floor.

Feel for his depravity.

As he is no more–Or, same not.

For his seeds did rot.

Destruction he created, for a life destroyed

They’re winning

feel his heart stop–As no thump popped–

No, it’s gone–As he deserves nothing but–

Feel his depravity.

Love he tainted for nothing can he—Only thee manipulated

Himself— Thrown back to this black sea.

For nothing sight to see

for no fight to be…

Feel his deprivation,

deprived of the illusion vacation

–Sink with him–

but don’t stay.”

For its only his place.

Move before his depravity

Thy beg, pleads to move for the next day

Sun’s always minutes too late.

Shine upon empty graves for depravity took thee away.

Leave him, for he needs to stay–

He is deprived and full of regret…

As “he” would say.

Je suis fatigue de moi-meme.

For her, A lovely day he prayed.

Cason B. Wagner


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