Perfection of Darkness: The Fourth Book of Poems

Verse Two: Perished Spirit

My bones decay with the laughter of irony

All I'm made of is flesh

Weakened, no spine to support my fall

Perishing inside

I'll falter again and again

Tripping over my own landscape

I'll fall down over and over again

Until I can't get up once more

And when it comes, there will be no hand of help

No one to reach to

Vanishing inside

~

There's a million words

Billions of sentences

To describe the things we see

Beauty and horrors alike

There's a million different thoughts I have

And a billion ways to see them on my face

To describe what I feel, what I cannot let other people know

Beauty and horros inside me alike

But no word can describe this

Torturing sensation I can only feel

Phenomenon of the mind

How it can cave in on its self

But it isn't my mind

Bcause I'm a body without someone

Perished inside

I'll falter again and again

I'm getting weaker as I stumble

Tripping over my own landscape

I'll fall down over and over again

The same mistakes are made

Until I can't get up once more

And when it comes, there will be no hand of help

No one to reach to

Because everyone leaves

Vanishing inside

~

Once I was somebody

Now I am nobody

Humans flare, tren die

Like a flame that will always go out

Shine so bright just to dim and be forgotten like everything else

A perished mind

A perished soul

Everything died

A broken thought

A broken meaning

No agony is suffering

End the endless days now

I collapsed within myself

My heart died, stopped beating

Let it fall down into my stomach

But your words make my stomach fall

It'll fall again, let my bowels hit the floor

My rib cage, so empty

My precious soul, full of empathy

But the virus spreads

And like my organs, my spirit fails

I can't see it anywhere

I have no support, my rib falls

Piece by piece, I die a bit everyday

And I know I'll only continue to decay

So I end it