Don'T Let The Night Forget Poem by Bernhard Emil Bruhnke III

Don't let the night forget to outlast the simple genesis
of my unstable surroundings.

Bless the holy contrition
for unleashing the fragile,
pasteurized wind
that is boycotted throughout the cloak of memory.

Fear is the sugar-toothed morsel
of the beta switched nebula and the un-soothed paradigm
paraded between the rudimentary iris.
A simple enigma for those plagued by shadows.

Let me forget the quiet fancy of the mundane
and shake loose the former dynasty of the world.

I need the untamed calamity of the air
the world refuses to breathe into,
the withered seams of one another.

I need you like the avenues of fire that breed with the dreams
of lavender steam.

I need to remember,
like the day that chooses
to parade its somber divinity
over the batallion of regret.

I need the truth.
With you,
I have no excuses.

Let my greatest contribution
be forgetful,
that way the air might drift passively
and without hope of retribution.

Let my needs
be disavowed
into the blank mask of obscurity.

May the holy fire of inquiry
be doused under the
black wings of chaos and negligence.

Let my unmistakable fancy
be silenced
in the mute vapor of antiquity.

Take a man and his sorrow and throw it into
the vault of the ocean.
Even there, an echo can never rest.

Give away my electric emotion and perennial thoughts,
let them caste away the lightning soaked taste buds
making sexual context
in the form of nightmares gone wrong.

Disguise my wardrobes left scattered in the prarie streets,
where dry eyed lepers smoke
wilted flowers and prance in the aftermath
of executed divinities and radioactive smoke screens.

Leave no eyes left to be uncovered,
for the rest of the world,
the night is a luxury of phantoms.