11.4 11.11 

In the wake of October, I always find

But when the day is over, why bother sending signs?

I lose in November,

And then it’s December-

Where I’m wearied  of striving,

When it’s all I can remember

Anymore-

Never more.

Four years and four nights alone, long;

You left me worn, dragging on-

Useless and wanted.

Have You forgotten?

I wandered so far,

Just To be lost at sea;

Striving for Something; 

Just to pray for, to bleed.

I’ve poured out my needs

To Death, my friend;

I’ve slept without dreaming 

Only to this sordid end-

A nameless faceless decade Descending 

Into the countless forsaken Seasons unending

Bound by inhibited fruition for unknown reasons

But It’s mystery still keeps whispering in the breeze

But will it-can it; ever be un-

In just the way that it was all done?

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