the Poem
I’m drowning in the blackest sea,
The sound of
a hundred violins
Is ringing through my ears
And I can’t hear
my screams.
The blood is getting colder
As a thousand miles
of fire
Is spreading ‘fore my eyes
and you can’t hear me
crying.
Lost, locked, left to wonder
How could I ever
have fallen
Where the lightnings burn
Like broken glasses in my
throat
And is this the end that approaches
Now that we
know no words?
Try to perceive, make up a prayer
For as I
mentioned, I’m a ghost.
I’m an ethereal splinter
And a sacrificed
scapegoat
Frozen hands, broken lips,
Irony of ivory and
agony
In the murder of crows
O’er the crowd I bleed upon.
Here’s to the luxury of kings
And the barren
philosophy
In trying to become and be
Who I need not to be.
Here’s a silver plate to sleep
And a rusty
guillotine.
I’m doing all I can
To find ways in to the
hell
For I got nowhere left to hide.
I’m done tryna ease the pain
For memories
should hurt
And I got tears left to spill.
I gave my best, my past,
My lives, my love, my
breath
To end up tangled in a mess
So don’t save me from my agony,
Stare at the cross I’m carrying,
Smile or wallow in apathy.
