A glimpse into a dark soul
He ate the poison of his deeds; his body held reservoirs of
self-hate.
Knew little of freedom — trapped in repetition.
over and over,
it is not a thing learned —
The condemnation came from those; the holy ones should have been
pillars of hope.
Collapsed in the heaps — lost souls.
homeless, living in a house he owns,
it is poverty of another kind —
Tonight, he died, tomorrow, he lives; living scares him more
than dying.
Death is waiting — around each corner.
Death is a cynic,
draining empty hearts —
He believes that heaven and hell do not exist for him; that he
is different.
While others find peace — others tormented after Death.
he suffers here,
imagining more and more suffering —
Because he knows the September sun rises, and tomorrow is a harvest of despair.
He thinks it over. He remembers no message of good news: just
false, empty words.
While each of the shit house philosophers collects their pay.
he sits in dark despair,
twisting his wrists around his neck
—
Song of blue moment
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