I break me down.
I build me up.
Undrink this cup
Of bitterest bile.
Unwalk my steps...
This lengthy Mile
Has brought me to
a heinous Shore...
Forcing my feet
Just one--step--more--
CLOSER
To that Sentient Sea...
Where I dare not look,
Lest I see Me.
Drowning..
In Sorrows so savage
they eat
The very flesh they were born of-
Each cheek becomes
A bountiful buffet
Until the tears have worn away
The very Souls
That gave it form.
The Sea of Sorrow:
A Cruciform.
For a World so bereft..
So forlorn.
I too,
Contribute
To the swarm
Of drops
Too hideous to entertain
The thought of granting them a Name.
The Acid of Men's hearts
Does-not-warrant
Such acclaim.
Yet-
Shall my weary eyes abstain,
To cast about this torrid terrain;
Where-in my feet
Have fought my brain
And brought me Here
On Hell's campaign.
Where sanity has rent
Rough wounds, profane.
And left my surety upon my Soul-
like a stain.
And left my Purity, in youth froze-
like a game.
And left my Love upon the Path-
like Stones of Shame.
And left my Rage upon my lips-
like sin,
aflame...
And left my Choices at my feet-
like a preordained hydrophane
of Acid Rain...
composed
of
Pain.
So-
What to do, but dive right in?
my betraying feet can learn to swim
When you tire
Of the quagmire-
...what's left then?...
I'll drink me down
This one-
last-
sup-
Of Tears so virulent
They eat the cup.
I'll swim me in,
To the Innominate Sea...
Become
My Own
Anemone.
YOU ARE READING
Book Of Counted Sorrows
PoesíaAn exercise in demented Adventure. A Test of ingenious Insanity. Fragile words spewed forth into the abyss of the the electronic medium. Diamonds forged in the coalmines of Memory. *OR......just pages upon pages of crap ;-)...* Only Time and Effort...
