The Ossified Sanctuary of the Fallen (Poem)

Beneath the crepuscular vault of an obsidian firmament,

I drift, a pallid specter in the ethereal gale

Your transparent, crystalline voice is a tempest of grace,

Slicing the chronos of my despair into twin-hewn shards.

Behold the stygian descent where pure, white tears

Are calcified into monuments of sin.

I am entombed in that vacuum—that hollowed mausoleum

Residing in the frail, lightless gap of a human heart.

Let the miasmic shadows enshroud my wan frame,

As fallen feathers dissolve into the starless maw.

Hold me with malevolent kindness, for this sanctuary

Is but a dream that bleeds into the morning’s ignominious light.

Short explanation^^: speaker feels like a ghost drifting through a pitch-black world, trapped inside the "hollow" space of a broken heart. While a beautiful voice briefly cuts through their despair, providing a moment of comfort, the speaker ultimately feels consumed by their own shadow and guilt. In the end, they realize this brief feeling of safety is only a fading dream that will be destroyed by the harsh reality of the morning light