DetoxificationIt's a toxic pleasure,A life with a drug.On the brink within a wink,Adrenaline in the veins.The highs pulsate,the lows careen.The fable won't be stable.Mountain to valley, the trend repeats.Disaster looms fora life without.Brandy to water,Candy to grain.Stopping doesn't satisfyyet lesser is needed.Reduce the dose,till the drops are no more.Pass out on the floor,sleep until morn,and just like the sun,rise to life, once more.
The Land of Voiceless EchoA ghost town. A little ranch. Stillness all aroun'No animals. No conversation. A single man in town.The day is late. The air is cold. Shadows quickly grow.He trudges on. The house is near, windowpanes aglow.Fluffy white engulfs the fence. He tunnels to the porch.The door is cracked; the white jumps back. Darkness to a torch.He stomps his feet. Layers drop; bare skin at last exposed.He drags the wood o'er to the fire; for hours the flames have dozed.The man slips back into a chair. Slumber soon to follow.The dreams drip deep into his past- sad in which to wallow.A girl, a boy, a summer night. Futures yet unbroken.Years have gone by, seasons changed, vows remain unspoken.Yet the man, with no one around, labors, waits, and hopes.Ever fueled and forever hurting, he sits, stares, mopes.The wind howls. The sun has left. Darkness everywhere.Around the world, angels weep; doom is in the air.
Fall Haikubox of colorscrisporchard day