Recess Files...

Tread tread...
I seem to have left myself somewhere far...
Looking back hoping the door would be ajar...
The footsteps I left behind...
Seem too thorny to unwind...

Tread tread...
With each step I seem contrived...
There is no pleasure I seem to derive...
A whisper and a twist of fate like refractions of cornelian hue...
I cannot seem to drown in warm arms, long past due...?

Tread tread...
And so the angels hover above my kingdom...
Yet I stand alone in this spot so lonesome...
A feverish pitch does consume this time...
Nay, a desperate feeling to call something mine...

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