My Glitter Is Back And I'M Dead At Dawn Poem by Dog goD 8Hate

I’ve arrived at dark morn
As I step from a contentious bed,
The sheets soiled with no wringles.

What glee the day in its suit of
Armor as I seek retaliation in vain.
The dead are alive outside as we,

imbued are dead of their destination,
Homeless in a house but with a 'view! '
I watch they from panes of pain.

I throw some reality morsels from my
Balcony but none know how to catch
In their distraction to delusion.

Cheerful disseminators of clouding
Inventions they walk the day ardent
In quirky little designs of night

This gruesome grow-some (my) existence
That visits all, in time, in its veritable quest
For reality’s augmentation.


(Oct.17,07/Abused by Muse, a supplanted compensation...this.)