Craft

Lost I thought in the three halved darkness,
An ending open, closed and incomplete.
A frenzied game of hide and seek.
Misguided rails provide the hardness,
The tenderness we'll never meet,
Divided sails, they break the fleet,
I sway between wall and water,
I sidestep through emotions sweet,
The metal chair their colder daughter,
Selfish steel where I rest my feet,
The corruption sought to break it;
My heart whom fought her, and eventually
I hold it at arms length over the edge,

Where hope and hopelessness fills its vessels

In equal measure, where my mind wrestles

This damned pleasure, this damned treasure,
The murkiness kindly threatens to take it,
As my feet tiptoe on the ledge, potentially
I could let go and all I had taught her,
That iron grey mass, the lifeless tumour,
The malignancy which I dare not name,
Clinging onto the thing which my hands held so tightly,
Seems more like the brain, as daily and nightly
It is the dominating darkness which shines so brightly,
And I no longer can play this childish game,
From the verge, backwards it is snatched.
But this crux and it's cancer are the same,
Never separated, never detached.