Relapse Poem by JAY WALK

When my heart fails to abstain
my vow to mum another sound,
my eyes, like Indian rain,
softly blur worlds around.

And I weep in dying crimson
that when left, turns vibrant green--
streams of sandalwood trees
drinking pools aquamarine.

Eventually, the tears dissolve
along trees growing far down South
and I assume everything's resolved
swallowing the salt in my mouth.

I forget the poison muttered
as I carved on tree trunks strong--
rotaries with sins buttered,
ones I never committed all along.

As May comes to a close
I know not how I feel
about a fading viridian grandiose
with thoughts once again concealed.

I know not why I mock pain as sundries
and then wait for my eyes to rain.
To pool into emerald countries,
to softly melt worlds again.