indolent
he stared out
cursing the world
yet contented
to sit
doing nothing
but complaining

insolent
burning with a
sultry irreverence
discontented
with a king’s share
of nothing
to satiate the pain

unrepentant
cursing the absent
divinity with a
petulant anger
of an abandoned child
with only the scars
where hope once lay

a dire absentia
carving the corpse
of happily ever after
into a funeral pyre
for the dying dreamers
casually dying of
casualities in a
confusion of condemnation