keenan (after jung)

in the corner
i wish to face the day
it was to him i speak
that looked so grim
he fades away
i wish in Milton
soon to seek out all my truthful treasures
i wish to stop this dying entropy
caught between my fingers
i wish it soon
to no longer weep for him
that is in my corner
but i feel the darkness
as i stare convulse around
the mourner
a cold nip
a sullen ghost
a sunken post
within the centre
and at the edge
emotion bids you enter