The blood will spill

Shards of glass stung my eyes,
Blinding me, couldn’t see the skies..
Cotton wool filled my mouth and squeaked against my teeth.
I inhaled so hard and long, but still I couldn’t breathe.

Flies hover within my chest,
My hearts their food, and my soul’s their guest.
In and out of my bleeding ear,
Crawl black figures, gathering fear.

Against a wall I’m chained, by my collar bone
If I dare to pull away, my body breaks before the stone.
My drink it is a liquid, a mix of gray and red.
A puss that seeps from mouths of prisoners that are dead.

My clothes are nettle leaves stitched with poison thread,
My stomach wound has opened now, what happens I do dread.
Rusty nail pins my stiff jaws closed,
Webs cocoon my head not a single hair exposed.

My veins bulge, my knees crumble and collapse,
Jugular has split and gushes blood like taps.
I’m choking on my shock, my horror and the blood,
I am a prisoner of life, so dying is no good.