Death Valley

I oftentimes feel like
the loneliest man in these masses-
the protestant amongst catholics,
an extra-familial bastard.

How I wish I had something to look forward to,
but if there is one thing my retrospection has taught me,
it is that the future is not always afforded you.

And loneliness is the worst poverty;

If only,
my memory bankrupture could buy intwo new beginnings,
whose solace would only be in penching the pennies
that I'm throwing into well-being,
on the Eve of a labotomy.

Wealth is wasted
when tossed into dry river basins.
These deserts have flooded my mind.
A blackbox has been caged in my ribs.

I crashed into a canyon,
now I need someone to de-cipher
the last words my heart ever captured.

Pull me out of this death valley,
the nostalgia is killing me.
And no matter how much I wish,
these lost hopes are not full-filling me.