PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Here, in Hell, I feel as though totally alone;

if others are here they cannot be found or known.

And, in this place, the worst of my fears

burns within me, a conflagration that sears

me from the inside, a slow and endless burn

amplified through my flesh in every nerve,

and more agony than I think I deserve:

I object to the punishment as lacking cause.

No one gathers to offer me applause.

No one perks up their anxious ears,

at the first sound of my words, to listen,

nor to show me the sparkling tears

my lines have drawn from their eyes, to glisten.

I do not have an audience

with whom to share my experience,

for whom my poetry will make sense

of their existential misery

through my epic poetry,

adorned with my talent and artistry.

What they know is not me.

What they know is not me.