Alone in a cell (circa 2003)
alone in a cell,
a man sat humbled and maniacal,
staring into the abyssal night
with broken eyes
and tattered skin.
under a beaten brow
told of many years,
and his mouth was a silent laceration.
the moon was a halo.
reaping in the night’s fatigued sermon
of some forgotten,
he fell cold and uncompassionate.
he sat alone.
his breath became slower, colder.
he wore his eyes like
for the procession of a failing clock.
he sat alone
with tattered skin
and his eyes were a million demons.
and the moon was a halo.
and he died,
his eyes mirrored by his mouth.
his eyes became