208/365 (Untitled, But No Matter)

Eternal nature of a splintered past
Transient face of happiness last
Shattered bottles of shattered dreams
A tarnished diamond that never gleams
Tainted by the brutality of life
With endless war and infinite strife
A downcast face and dismal eyes
A hunched stature, broken pride,
An outcast in the societal world
A tornado of emotion and misery swirled
From scathing glances of youth offhand
An apathetic world, listlessly grand
The guilty crying of his wounded soul
For crimes never committed, but no chance of parole
Held captive in the prison of his mind
The fabric of sorrow with pain entwined
Interrogation lights, a sparkling blade
More than one mistake that he hath made
No reason to live against the world and himself
The clock face glimmers, a quarter past twelve
A quarter past no return
For his heart did no longer yearn
For passing days, months, years,
Wrought with regret, woe, and tears
His blooming grief and wilted splendor -
Death's perfect friend and life's contender.