PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I have believed in lies;

Knowing lies were all I believed in.

I have practiced the rituals of

An organized cult. And

I have been taken advantage of.



I have been sucked ashen pale,

Dried to brittle flax and bone.

And scatter as chaff

Over an iron inferno.

I have danced in the flames.



And I have been burnt.

No talcum soap can unblacken

These coal-streaked hands,

This tarnished soul remains.

Consumes; it feeds on my fair flesh.



I am apart from myself.

My identity has been sold

To a little ear-biting devil,

With a silver tongue, and mercury saliva.

He is killing me drop by drop.



In this place hope falls short;

A lone candle flickering in a field.

There are no walls, no ceiling, no floor

Only emptiness, forever falling.

Somehow, I must wrest this beetle in my ear.