The Sea of Purgatory

Virtue held no vigor on the contemptuous horizon
as the sun descended behind a sea of melancholy
that raised its fervent waves to our failing ship;
seven aboard, sailing through achromatic rainbows
we hit the decrepit decks with nostalgic reveries
to talk in failing voices that remind these souls
to gather the shattered pieces of their austere lives
away from all the fault they call upon this ship,
separatelychasing suns across a circular path;
now that there is nowhere left to go in our grief
we magnify the agony as it correlates the angles
that stare ardently in excuse to the wrong direction;
flesh in heresy as our bodies are witches burning,
waking up to a wish that I will one day resonate
as I have accepted my fate and I am now sinking
while everyone else could be fighting in futility
for no one knows how I began but how I'll end,
focused in on why I am far beneath the answer
opened to a pride of lions and murder of crows
that act upon my mind in a refreshing separation
to a virulent and primal violation ofauspicious acts;
now it's so hard to leave myself below the decks
when I explode into four and leave an empty smile
for their inept eyes on the last act, one by one.
I've been trapped here for over one hundred years
with blood, women and drink acting only vessels,
begging brave friend horizon to lead us back to port
with my hand bidding back up on to dreary land
as it becomes clear that we sail the seas of purgatory.