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.

Photo by Evelyn Chong from Pexels


This site is under manintenance.

Sito con tecnologia WordPress.com.

%d blogger hanno fatto clic su Mi Piace per questo: