doom doom bow.

Doomed, was I, amidst the winter sun,

craving for slight fortunes of resent-less heartbeats

I was doomed from the start,

by the very reason

i have risen

to find myself, in heartache

I was doomed

whence she left,

with the setting sun

what a sound of dying heartbeats

I was doomed

by a dramatic prose

sung in my pleading ears

The red box dancing rhythmic impulses

I was doomed

of truths insinuating more'

of honesty that very well

shaped my demised 

I'm but a clown

juggled by my own caricature

I'm but a rock

swimming amidst abyss

I'm but alone, waiting;

for apparently nothing more

I'm just waking,

in gauntly motion

towards the next bloodshed

I'm but the matador

with a masochistic ticker

ticking away -- away.

DOOM.

Friday, January 1, 2010 at 2:36pm