Sunday, September 28, 2008

Hell.

My sins are lust and theft
stealing the idea of Hope
from those lost souls
who place it at my feet
in soft fragile surrender
as the tornado
of me
lifts the earth
beneath their feet
and we all go spinning
into the air
without a thought
of where we might land.

But you had the words
they'll say
that promised so much
yet words are but an empty shelter
the smoke of a fire long since deserted
the maudlin ghost of an empty bed
the education of a broken heart
the self deluding lie
carved into the past
to become a nightmare
which you will wake from
but I will be forever trapped within.

And if only God were here
he might shake his head
in solemn disappointment
as the last remaining parent
sending their son
to his doom
in order to preside over the final lesson
and say,
there is nothing more I can do
you told the world you would go to Hell
and you did, you fell
into the bleak flagellation
of your own ambition.

And
my Hell is a torrent of blood
so I'll drown
in the thick red rain
which pours from all those open wounds
trying to hold on
for dear life
to the part of me
which honestly
is distraught
with sorrow
and haunted
by the shadows
of what I have done.

1 comment:

  1. This is great.

    I hope you can find what you've lost, or at least, heal what has been destroyed.

    ReplyDelete