deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Noise
the quiet has become
my nightmare
flickering in and out
of bloodshot eyes
paralyzed by a
voiceless echo
I am in tune
with the parade
of jokers dancing on
on smoke stained walls
the flip side of paradise
my own personalized
postcard stamped from hell
waiting for salvation
I smell burnt flesh
as the cigarette goes out...
do I really want to know
what happened to the noise
my nightmare
flickering in and out
of bloodshot eyes
paralyzed by a
voiceless echo
I am in tune
with the parade
of jokers dancing on
on smoke stained walls
the flip side of paradise
my own personalized
postcard stamped from hell
waiting for salvation
I smell burnt flesh
as the cigarette goes out...
do I really want to know
what happened to the noise
Published 2nd Mar 2015
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