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A Willing Sacrifice
Fading like a rose wilting
from lack of nurture,
I crawl over broken glass.
My scourge lost awhile back,
but the punishment must never stop.
The dream still haunts me.
She walks in without care
until she lays eyes on me.
Anger brushes her cheeks red,
and it seems her eyes glaze over.
Hate—my creation—turns
against me and I feel
a thousand slashes breach
my skin with welcomed relief.
Agony rests not with physical
pain, but the mental anguish.
Her smile I wanted—I broke.
The dream still feels fresh,
but it's over a decade old.
© Hesher John
from lack of nurture,
I crawl over broken glass.
My scourge lost awhile back,
but the punishment must never stop.
The dream still haunts me.
She walks in without care
until she lays eyes on me.
Anger brushes her cheeks red,
and it seems her eyes glaze over.
Hate—my creation—turns
against me and I feel
a thousand slashes breach
my skin with welcomed relief.
Agony rests not with physical
pain, but the mental anguish.
Her smile I wanted—I broke.
The dream still feels fresh,
but it's over a decade old.
© Hesher John
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