REVIVAL

Seasons of midnights
worn in ebony frayed threads
upon the garment used as one's mental pajamas.

Suddenly no longer fitting so well,
growing uncomfortable
with the perennial scratching feeling
that irritates the senses
and leaves one feeling
the world is a cage
filled with spiders and demons.

Walking out into the sunshine with new eyes
finally allowing them to touch the majesty
where only shadows prevailed in one's passion crevices.

Seeing the rebirth of inner luster,
a genesis of soul produces light's tales in promise,
at last inhaling serenity's purest balm
lacking the toxic waste of nocturnal flagellations
with a melancholy whip for self-inflicted stripes.

Letting the calm and silent splendor
become a music soothing and refreshing,
feeling at last a blissful revival of spellbound awe,
giving a reason to keep on breathing
where the lungs
no longer invent excuses to scream.