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Eyes that Sympathize
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Darkness (When I Die Inside) I'm strapped to the table
with guillotine in place.
Right before I'm beheaded
my eyes, the window into the world,
is stabbed in endless continuity
with long slim needles.
Crying in pain, knowing this suffering,
I can "understand" now.
Perpetually evoking the "truths" of this world
in which we live in, our habitat Earth.
Illusions glean with momentary shine
yet I can see through it all;
See through the black brick wall with the "mind's eye."
Now as the blade is released I can only pray
for not my own sake, but for others.
The guillotine falls, I vanish...
Morbid... - from Kevin
What truths we see just before the end. A mirror to the soul opens as we realize there is no tomorrow. How well you expressed this in this piece. I can feel this poem.
Thank you for saying what I myself have felt.
Remember:
If you are content with who you are and what you believe, nothing else matters. Writing is self expression. Good, bad, beauty, or ugliness these are our feelings and they do matter.
Susan Hines