Delicious Death Moan

I wish I could turn myself into a stone

to escape the sharp edged feelings that cut thru’

with so much horror that numbs me again and again

in a world that has suddenly tuned chaotic and insane.

 

In vain I try to take and hold deep breaths to imagine

a beauty that is colored by all things that really matter

the simple, self-effacing life away from structured surrounding

but the reality of it all could be further away from nightmare.

 

While I cloak all this profound reality in my poetry

i do it with a grave heart hyperaware of any gale

inspiration has seized me mixed with animal power

as I inhibit this air and silence that stretches to infinity.

 

The world torments the innocent with cruel pleasure in her eyes

uglying glowing flesh that once basked in the sun

splitting it apart so perfectly with a faithful bomb or a bullet

tingling pleasure that creates repulsive Goosebumps to its masters.

 

In my world, the air has turned cold and too fragile

that I am afraid to bow to the bottomless of its eyes

because it feels like entering into an endless dark tunnel

all that makes the innocent to hold on tightly to death

with eyes raised up as if pleading for help from the sky.

 

 

 

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