They come and go.
To and from.
These voices in my head.
They lead me here
And take me there.
But never to the dead.
My solace comes
From knowing pain.
Knowing it can't last.
Though the demons
Follow through
And tie me to my past.
The poet lies
With open eyes.
His veins, they match the sky.
So blue until
They open up.
Then fire pours outside.
The vultures pick
Away the flesh.
The last of who we were.
Nothing left
But bones and dust
To soak up all those tears.
You're crying out of fear.
Because your still here.















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