PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Everyone accuses me in my dreams.

Mine is not a guilty conscience,

But one transfixed by fear,

For even reality is not what it seems-

There's a little bit of hell in heaven and in here.



I've fallen so far from where I do not know,

But all of which I'm aware is

Where I am going is even deeper below.



Accursed and riddled by treason,

Aiding and abetting the enemy side,

I have rejected myself with reason,

Shunning also the mask under which I hide.



Now I am exposed to the chill of the air

It's getting colder before it gets hotter

As to where I'm going, I longer wonder why I'll be there.



There my flesh will melt from my face

Revealing so completely my human disgrace

Now more starkly than ever before . . .

I get up to discover there is no door



This chamber I've entered is tightly sealed.

Now I have all the time to ponder

Why going nowhere once to me appealed.

I chose my own path, the choice was my own,

And it often occurred to me that I would follow t alone,

So it comes as no shock to me

That I'm imprisoned in my own tragedy,

Left without either lock or key.