My void.
What an austere sail into my sunken trepidation.
A foreboding unease blanketing the black of my blood.
An apprehending consternation awakening the perish in my pores.
It tastes like metallic solace.
The copper of plasma weaving into the feign of a haven.
A haven so assured to its deceitful indemnity.
A haven so pledged to its sweltered starlight.
A haven so bound to its besieged bloodline.
My ascetic ancestry stews in its rage.
A seething blasphemy of an ancient travail, swallowing the conflictive woe of my skin.
The turmoil of my targeted predation immersing the vacuum of my dejection.
A submerging succour of bane.
An appeasing mollification of an abyss.
A stifling soothe of an excavation.
I am desolated.
I am ravaged.
I am vexed.
The shades of my soul’s stain;
My beloved void.
