deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Ravings of a Petulant Consumer

Released!

Unleashed, from the tides that bind

Left free, to find...Some kind of Peace

While my ink intercedes, on behalf of my mind

I write.

Like, time ain't really on my side

Like, these End of Days...Is just the same

As my endless nights

When I lay awake, and recite to the quiet

About how, sleepless, the silence can be

If I could only hear something, that could help me rest comfortably

I most certainly, would listen to it

But, until then...

I'll continue to script, careful, not to mince my words

Or disturb, what I know to be real

That my passion, just so happens, to match my skill

In this instance

My skill, being nothing more, than what God had in store

For the business end of my quill

Bringing verse to life, with my God-given write...To kill

Or rather, shed dead skin

Sloughing off the excess living, for a metamorphosis to begin

Starting with, my ink being the kindling

Setting fiyah to the minds, of the innocent

Simply guilty of reading this

As though it was significant...Or, remotely reminiscent of any hot line

That might ignite, once comprehended

I stay hidden, with a pyro-maniacal addiction

To witness, a short distance from the scene

The all-engulfing flame

Burn...Slow

~disDain~