Falling down sideways, seeking my hideaway.

Slide down a staircase, sight of a fair case.

Whispers from the windows, talks inside side walls.

A house full of memories, a joust pulled from history.

A two horse war brought for... a Thor at its core.

Sounds come out of my closet, sometimes I think I'd burn it.

Drowning in pools of whiskey, searching for any lost key.

To a version of myself I seek, only to have a little peek.

Strangers sleep under my bed, and yes it's kinda sad.

Saw it in a book I just read, about a homeless cat.

They accuse me of a list, a list of each sin I commit.

Drops of guilt enter me sweat, wetness coats my head.

Hallow's Eve comes early this year, to every religion it brings fear.

For all the ghouls walking down my street, I notice you all marching in a fleet.

Notice a brother eye staring down on me, promotes me a rite that only I may seek.

George Orwell horror based on living, conflict from which I made my savings.

A passed away angel with black wings, speaks to me whenever I sleep.

Rename my coffin Lucy when I fall in love, a connection I believe is never just.

Diving deep into the basement, where mystery is in encasement.

Tale of a previous generation, a frail man facing erasement.

From the heavens I see my fate drop in my arms.

Growing from the soil covering my hidden farm.

Rusting is the guard who keeps my gate shut.

Lusting after my wealth like a thief after Tut.

My mind is excluded from society's conversation, or at least that's what it brings when I see my imagination.

I seek to produce art from my own formation, to vent out my emotions without any hesitation.

My husband whose a bringer of diseases, my wife whose crime I failed to prevent.

Yes... two wolves of the spirit who lay at my side, each bringing me a jolt when I hear a gemini.

My physical creations visit me each night, letting my relaxation break new heights.

Why do I bring myself to rid of my lies, when each one leaves me if my soul is shown.

Each morning I wake up to another fight, another fly bringing me grief from outside

Smoking out daydreams if it's work to which I kneel, choking out when I lean on the world in its reel.

Cancelled out all these battles that I fought, chancellor of a castle that my anger now rots.

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