The Trinket

So It has come to be this little token trinket has given me that peaceful solemn sense of being that I most definitely didn't want nor do I need

It has robbed me of my visionary glee and though it is rather pleasant be the eye to see, It's mask of outer beauty hides the very intention that has laid its purpose on my mean

Be it may my time elapsed;  weather down to mere ash

May it be that my inner workings of the devils hand were mere feeble attempts of man

Wether the explanation has to pass; I feel this guttural cringe of my creative soul I hate; I say.

I hate it !

I hate the peace this silver serene trinket gives to me. I feel this copiously brood yet harmonious tingle in ever fiber of my sanity and I wish the depth of my mental insanity to take hold my mind straight to the depths of my own hell I've claimed as mine

But here is horrid pleasant and unbearable sweetness I reside.

I'm hollow now

Forever

In time