crawling across
shattered remnants
of hope
praying to appease
the angry spirits
that do nothing
but spit curses
while bemoaning
just how
blatantly unfair
the sunrise over
the buildings
casting golden beams
over the forms
of dead dreamers
and mumbling poets
is when witnessed
through the lens
smudged with ash
from smoldering dream.

i have stared
at this abominable
ceiling for hours
yet no answers
are given in the
predawn dismalities
angry vampiric moths
draining the light
until the darkness
becomes bitter
recompense
in the cataract
over the mind’s eye
a milky white film
as the shadows
cackle menacingly.