A
wisp of hair—
The
mirror image of
What
once, was quite the view
Graphite
wisdom
Refracted
through
The
lost & blackest tracks of lead
Languishing
in charcoal…
Disenfranchised…always
Into
the camera
I
peer—
By
the lens
I
envision… you
As
you were
When
we could be,
As
I was way back when,
Where
I still resembled Vitruvian me
Shuttering…to the speed of
spectacle
Focus lost
Pair of sights
Ever moving
Upwards and out
Shifting missions
As per
The moments
Of whelp
Never killing
Absorbing just enough
To keep you its host
& Victim to its crutch
Dependent upon
Its will to
feed
Snapshot
Imagery
Bent
&
Distorted
Angular
Fades
in Line
Broken
Memories
Painted forever… aching
In dystopian artistry
