sonnet 223

sonnet 223, 9/8/13

I am immortal, eternal in life
I am painless, effortless, i occur
I have yet to face my own bloodied knife
And I appear to become savior
forever i weep, as the bluebird cries
into my wing, my black breathing tears burn
as around me society will die
as the grandfathers handstick tock and turn
Why must I take them, gather them in spades
Let them dangle from my hands, lose their hope
take their souls, for its me that they all hate
close to earth their ethereality gropes.
it kills me sometimes, watching them
the way people die reverent