deepundergroundpoetry.com

Beneath these Scars

Walking through this rubble
I know I will never leave.
Sun splitting clouds ahead of me,
Turn back around to grieve.

Her lips purse in the ashes,
Her touch on the still breeze...
The forty-less one lashes
That nightly become my tease.

Truth of my bed of sorrow;
What's beneath these scars won't heal.
Pray I will wake tomorrow,
And none of it will be real.

The answer never coming,
A product of human waste;
I know that there is nothing
To ease all that I have faced.

A soul despondent, sightless stare...
A heart as black as pitch.
Eternity's echoed despair
My season of the witch.

The price I'll pay forevermore
In stories never told,
With nothing left to account for
And nothing left to hold.

This guided trail to emptiness,
It yields no return.
My candle doused, and nonetheless
For her I'll everburn.

A faceless thought, an emptied husk,
Earth withering neath 'tread.
From dusk to dawn, from dawn to dusk,
I grace the living... dead.