On Out

After years of opening these Doors,
I finally walked through one
And Found you.

Sitting on the table Like the feast of life,
The pleasures, The Horrors.
Yes, I found you.

I layed down for you, my Heroine, War
had torn my path in half,
Yet I found you,

Calm, Did rest I, In the Bath, So Happy
To Have found you in my flat.
Are you still There?

Oh, Golden Heroine,
Are you Still there?

Oh, Golden Heroine
How could you come to me, So plain?

Oh Golden Heroine,
How could you hide, from me, Your name?

Oh Golden Heroine,
How gently, now you've cured My Pain,
I'm home again, Sweet golden Haired Girl,
I took your hand straight to my Grave.

Are you still There

Recycle.

The Cycle
Needs To
Circulate the
Waste or
else it
Sufficates in
Haste, exponentially
Degrading 'til
It's way
too late

While
Spirals
Thrive
Off
Of
The
Lazy
Losing
Pace
Spinning
and
Grinning
As
Oxygen's
Thinning
Beginning the demise,
be wary.
Don't get scared, get scary,
Be daring enough to Return
To the
Mother
That bore
All these others.
Return
To the cycle, don't
Spiral
And
Fade,
Burn Brightly
In this Perfect
Pattern, Circulate this
Matter. Just
Because

The Cycle
Needs to
Circulate the
Waste or
Else it
Suffocates In
Haste exponentially
Degrading til
It's way
Too late.