Gore in your eyes in hues of umber,
in days gone under the skies without slumber.
Tears haven't sufficed what you had to endure,
what you had to blame and shame on yourself.

You wish to wage wars back in the sludges,
as an ode to lost battles, snakes rattle.
Blood bled and shed on innate broods,
to no end, death on the elusive hand.

It is raw rage that surges through your veins,
you don't have blood to bleed anymore,
he was no vampire, but turned the empire,
of your body to dust, turning you to a forgotten mist.

Floating around with no voice,
drugs and waters from hell provide you solace,
destroying what he spared in you,
you walk with a spear in your heart.

Something that shows your shame,
the naked human clothed and alive,
but dead, dreading every single night,
not to his existence, just your own.

Because it's you, who loved him,
he might have sown the seeds,
albeit it was your heart that sprouted,
only to be reaped and sweeped under the carpet.

Kill him in your soul, lest you touch him again,
only to mirror him, weaker and vulnerable,
never venerable, kill him from your soul,
you are in control, only you.

Fly like the bee, who was not designed to fly,
fly like someone who is not destined to die,
and write on the sky, let the people who shamed you vie,
only for them to fall like Icarus from the sky.

___________
© Josh D

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