Brooder.

Blood orange cathedral
Glowing; gleaming, bleeding
On this descent into dusk
Phosperent; it's penetrating:

I so blindly wander
Through your stained-glassed doors
To your shrine of passing ego
Like songs of courage & arms
They fall as they reach crescendo
(And what to do if I should)
I drop to my knees
(With their shrieks and screams)
Bite my tounge with reckless anger
Paint my face in the rust of armor
& rise up like a tragic hero
Journey out into the desert
I'll exploit my own adventure
In photographs
& literature
I'll be the burden:
Of my own honor.