Escape from a spring tides blossoming stench
A wrench, drenched in evil so foul
Mood could turn the world backwards and make civil men go wild,
But how is just nobody’s reason to find
A way, a fortune a meaning to life
Just something to make us all give enough to make kindness a style,
Tortured and un-tuned to nature’s way of telling
His message was scripted with vengeance’s best wishes
For merriment was never prescribed or described to this monster of a child,
Talented with sadistic charm that could nourish a virgin
His hurting was only the beginning of a melancholic cycle
That would bleed his tainted existence dry of everything he felt inside,
Spring
Naked and unseen summer suppressed his screams
From the fringes of sanity he watched women make men happy
It would seem that the season’s gaieties would elude him till the day that he died,
At the mercy of the heat he felt like a prisoner
As the sun pressed insidiously down on his skin
Darkened his disposition was to fester and become remorse personified,
The makings of a villain to menace planet earth
The tragedy of one having to seek his own justice
Twisted like a conniving wolf’s intestines his thoughts focused when he cried,
More time brought a hunger that was beastly
Watching the stars by night sharpened his malignant instincts
Until no creature on the surface could look into his crimson eyes so vile,
Summer
An autumn coolness would occasionally influence his reason
Gripped by an eerie sense of forgiving he could be most forthcoming
When trees became bare and nature hardened, his own agony would make him blind,
Without the burn, sensations mellowed to orange
Tainted his rot would rot itself till it felt like nourishment
So surreal, the internal turbulence would seem to stand still so he could sigh,
For days on end he would contemplate forgetting what he knew
Life could become lives if he believed otherwise
Sadness could melt against the bleeding sunset of days left behind,
Autumn
When darkness engulfs all in the dead heart of winter
His wounds would sing a melody that reverberated through his being
Freeing him of all doubt the cold gave him comfort so his conviction intensified,
Stone-eyed, justified, pure he blossomed
A seed that was never meant to flower
Gave of himself intensely with each breathe, before he died.
Winter
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