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


Sinless Regret

Written by Cason Wagner

As you struck me down,

Or as We’ve fallen…. The ground looked softer than ever.  Pillars piled, screams of child, hold their hand and just smile.

Strike my back, the licks of cows, faint of breath. Just keep that smile. Hold their hands for a longer while.

Need not know of pain, until it’s done we shall be friends. Like thee, hold thy hands. A strife of blessings, a blessing so short,  Happy but sad–Welcome back my boy.

Listen for laughter, for laughter is magic.


A magician, with no happy ever after. Too shall hold thy hands, see no pain through windows formed by man.

Thee stated, hold their hands and smile for thee. An illusion of the sea for sight.

Please breathe.

A Last Piece

Don’t know what to say

Yes child, never gone but unseen. Like the wind in your ear.

Truly the whisper, bitter like his tea.

“Fear is an illusion”

What other illusion thy soaked in,

Unfortunate relapse

“It’s back”

Another prelude or an End.

Sit and watch as The Fallen commence.

C. B Wagner


Road of Desperados


soundless twirls;

Levity, uncharted heights

unreached. Wary it is. If seek,

itself more than enough…

A dead leaf from the tree,

occupied by greed

turned to


Run to us

Thrilling for parlay

Desperados pitiful parades.

Rot away, grow arrogance.

Your next rulers of days

the next days, everyday

full of plays. Says

tiring, nights

to retire.


Ruler of clocks

The Ticking–and Tock.

an occurrence, reoccurring

emptiness. Tickled to soul.

Time for descent,

clear this room,

On to the next,

leave of presence.

Charmers come in three.

They repent. Came, no rooms left.

So alone–again.

A long note for empty love never sent.

Twisted ends untie again

“Burn Them”

Now clueless.

Waters are rising.

C. B Wagner

Night of Days

Written by C.B Wagner

Do you fantasize? Elevating thoughts? parodic fancied deliberations?

Have you imagined being the breeze, suffocation unseen.

Be to your will like a thief in the night.
Your day spent like the kites–Below,  blades of grass your mighty fans

–to parallel waves sink you in.
Perished in your parade. Avoided by despair, avoided by love, figures greatest fear.

Covered in grace, like the moment of skipping stones–Across the grave or a slow drop alone. A bottom awaits, for time will tell…
New waters in dry land, a time for wet sand.

In time wet stones will dry again,

soar high then higher under the sight of all, that’s how you would spend your evenings, full of tumbles and falls.
A night like a day, paradise beyond fantasy, soft whispers fuel to ears;  silent cheers full of ecstasy, like teens all known is please.

Just wait a little bit longer. Hope you don’t mind, we tend to play mother and father.
Please see,
beyond the peak, look a little bit further. You tossed a stone across the sea.

Hole in a Wall


Build a drama for a closing curtain,

In act of empty sincereness .

As awoke you were to the same fear–but endless.


Just waiting for it–only thunder.

Mocked for the ending

Rather in line,

Walking but shot and stabbed–yet still whole.

Possessed the weapon for selfdemise–or for rule…


C. B Wagner

As always I Thank and Appreciate you All for hearing this cry.

Fear of Fallen Trees: TaForės

New Order | New fears

That weeping tree, hacked as sap leaks

The fallen leaves | Gray from green

Trifled  with greed, please fancy me

Spoken but unheard | Voice needed not

Fallen but unburied, great hope rots

Beautiful essence | The unknown

Repented for regret, lovely tones

Old world | Fallen tears

Rose pentad……

-its there.

C. B Wagner

As always I Thank and Appreciate Everyone for hearing this cry, and hope you enjoy this piece of me…


 Endings–more fascination there rather it’s counterpart.

Whether it’s ease or the fear that consumes, but invokation of carnage is not implied.

The gist of this tune is that mysteries fuel us.

We just want to know…

you know?

We think of what we want, we see what we want, and we go get it– Limited not to motive but desire.

Just imagine a glass of lemonade, the drip of sweetness splashing the uncontrollable as each taste bud battles a roaring wave of arousal. For a tough battle–but a sweet ending.

What about a banana, Not for its appeal, but from delight peeling–to the first bite, For wholes at home, however in sight–in piece…or for I tend to berries.

In reject did thee slip on a peel to the garden.

NOT “The Garden”–though it was a lovely garden. One that I now can’t see…..For it was a peel that set me free.

So do you ladies and gentlemen see?

So confused, I do love.

By terms I am a new dove, For white I am not–but black you may see.

So confused, so confuse how it may seem.

Too bad

Lovely thoughts–

Years of these for rulers get tired. Beliefs lost, no religion he claims. So mistaken you are–As he has faith tamed.

Names, NAMES, Names

–Associated with being..

Yes. This is me the speaker of two…or three..

Dreadful–My thoughts switched. For a new a peephole to seek.

For creeps not.

Rules to we all agree.

Tired–meaningless to you,

lets leave sullen, Too soundlessly.

Literal is hard–So the tears don’t fall

–up they go….So free unlike thee.

Asked, Who’s tired? 

Yes an ending

now sleep.


I REPEAT– Yes, but more like a track.

To a rhythmic tap…but it really was….

“Now Fall”



Downward for gravity…Unseen but real, let it worry for guidance. Currents for wind.


Mistaken for praise, for laughs are blades, too incisions cause no pain.


Tilted neck for shame–a barrier, meaning lost in random.

Shackled with freedom, idol thoughts lost in the wind,

Hushed for pride so a selfless bid.

As nothing floats, neither

wind–nor current.


 Back to the beginning.

A hopeless end.

C. B Wagner





Loneliness split one to many, Confused and stuck…

Motivated to embellish but you can’t make shit look pretty….can you?

Doenst matter.. Ears are tunnels so let nonsense run through.

Though fights aren’t  really fights without a victor. That victor will stand alone on the podium..Losers paradise.

–To an equal crowd the loser faced in bed.

C. B Wagner