Obsidian Man.

Hardened heart of ice
cold stone,
Obsidian, thus, I sit
alone,

Warmed only by that
lingering hole,
A place once filled, happy,
whole,

Soul, be damned, straight
to the core,
Fingers twitching, picking,
sore,

Unseen scabs broken,
alive through pain
unspoken,
Insane token, advice
thrown away,

No day, blackened,
tarry in that
expanse,
Words spoken, true,
but nary ever the slightest
chance,

An end to the dance as
we all fall down,
Pieces, littered, in excess
praying to drown...
-END-
(C) D.C. Chapman
11/19/2012