Cornfields of Oblivion
by Michael Doyle

Your heart is a black hole,
Devoid of life, like my soul.
Starting over with a new name,
Our guilt knows no shame.

We are each monsters in time,
Every sin made its separate crime.
Chasing down an endless road,
Given to escape, as we are told.

Hiding in cornfields of oblivion,
There's not a lot to carry on.
In this darkness in which we strive,
We do our best to stay unalive.

You are no longer wanted when you're dead, 
And there is so much rage in your head.
Once you reach the dead end of revenge,
It's easy to know that you are unhinged.

Ripples in time know their tribulation,
Broken hearts are given in contribution.
A disobedient geometry comes to an end,
Knowing only the finality of death as its friend.

 Hiding in cornfields of oblivion,
There's not a lot to carry on.
In this darkness in which we strive,
We do our best to stay unalive.

(c) July 16, 2026   Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved