Adventures of M. Fabulista...

POINTLESS

- vincent immanuel pang



You feel the Northern gales here

They cut you to the bones.

There is no knowledge of the golden orb

No sun, no warmth, no heat.



The ground beneath me gives;

I am drawn by its undertow.

I couldn't resist its alluring gloom,

Fumbling upon yielding ground.



I find I'm lost,

I can't turn back now,

I've gone too long, too far from home,

I lost the fundamentals of me.



Sinking, falling deeper into the abyss,

We've been here before,

We end up in this familiar perversion,

I've gotten used to this morbidity.



Culling goodness

Amassing grace

Rallying strength

Do second chances guarantee alternative ends?



I thought to give what you wanted;

I gave you what I had.

They were not what you had needed,

Nurturing your ambivalence.



So now we just go on,

Lounging in mutual melancholia,

Luxuriating on the pain,

Existing on vacuous disparity.