Philip Daniel Cook

Total Complete Collapse

Back to the beginning scratch.

The hidden itch.

It sits, and sits.


A myth of me must be achieved

in the fabrics of reality, I am

sworn in.....

a young phantom,

in the eyes of the 


I am falling into

the skies of pharaohs and distant Gods.


I find the distance still.

The total complete collapse.

In this insidious shell I will

lay out my call. As my blood

dribbles down, a mountain called

Era and I fall apart....



                     young Sun.

The walk is on the walls.

I'll sit here if not forever in complete

thought: a total complete collapse.


For surrender I shall not yield

to a hostile guard. A thousand

blade cannot cut. 

A lion shall not strike.

The order of a world's vulture.


The final strike is here.

In this darkest hour, I'll find my closure.

In this art of fire, every act of dark desire 

closed off from the higher powers.


I'll walk the salt line in the dead drenched stench.

I'll stay the rim of every passage to merit my digits in a ghostly swarm.

And look back into a world of tears for fears and just vanish into the years.

Ascending the dark rim, the final frontier.

In the sake of others I'll bend the world.

Light shall make misery, the dark shall feed,



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.