Antiscian Exile

Obambulating through refugium,
here rusticated by zabernism.
Myriarchy of tirocinium,
rules over martinets with nomism.
Cursorial thoughts of athanasic void.
The dacnomania in me forms anew,
as xanthocarpous spinnies make matoid,
as xanthochroic fruits are wont to do.
Anhedonia and analgia,
biune in never diastrophic land.
Ubication seen as dyslogia,
clinamen assigned solely to shend.
Postliminy sublated by bêtise,
A gement puts antiscians at ease.

A Fall from Grace

A fall from grace, a bitter song that mocks.
This wretched form is lost and left behind.
I wander through the bramble and the rocks,
and long for times bygone when I was blind.
Grace taught my heart to fear this dead valley,
how precious did that grace seem to me then.
The hour I first believed, it came to be:
and here I've wandered through and through again.
Succumbed have I to dangers, toils, and snares
at what such price is it to be restored?
The lord forsaketh me no more, nor cares
for it is I who doth forsake the lord.
When I've been here ten thousand years, this Hell
I'll have no fewer days than when I fell.

Interrogation of the Optimist

"Just tell me lest you die upon the shore,
your body pulled into arid expanse."
"A lovely day to die upon the shore,
the sound of crashing waves an ambiance."
"Then tell me lest you die up in the sky,
from splattered guts will jut your shattered bone."
"A lovely day to die up in the sky,
an everlasting free fall mine alone."
"Well tell me lest you die engulfed in flame,
fire licking at your ever-charring corpse."
"A lovely day to die engulfed in flame,
to feel an ember as it slowly warps."
"You bend not to threats of death. Tell me why."
"I fear it's just a lovely day to die."