November
I use to know myself, long before the dark came to me
Dim lit candle, spewing forth what little glow it has to offer
November is when I fell apart, like a puzzle, into pieces
Shattered on the wayward floor
When the melancholy came to waltz with me
Barren artless poet, wearing masks of white and black
Bleeding what little poetry he had left to bleed
November is when the snow fell from above
A harlequin such is me, wearing masks of white, ghostly
November is when I found myself waltzing alone
When I lost control and slipped downwards
I can see myself, but it only lasts for so long
My old self haunts these words, in this journal entry
I use to know myself, long before winter came along to walk with me
Sometimes I ponder, I wonder
If I am a ghost, just passing through
The valleys and catacombs, searching for life
Sometimes I wonder, is this all there is
Just old snapshots of who I once was
In barren poetry and faded photography
My old self has let go, and I am spiraling in a waltz
Waltzing to barren violin soundscapes and falling snow
November was the month where I found myself
Fallen, face first in the snow
I use to know myself, long before I let go
-Dandy Jon Powder-
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