deepundergroundpoetry.com
About To Die
The sun limps across the horizon
a damp grey washes the roots
and a desolate urge begins to cry
It's been three days
drear settles in
pulls murk my mask
but I cannot lie
a singular perk
a mouth full tango
swirled and imagined
blowing up my mind
birds encircle high
blood's letting out my eyes
adoration held in attention
unmerciful
I'm about to die
a damp grey washes the roots
and a desolate urge begins to cry
It's been three days
drear settles in
pulls murk my mask
but I cannot lie
a singular perk
a mouth full tango
swirled and imagined
blowing up my mind
birds encircle high
blood's letting out my eyes
adoration held in attention
unmerciful
I'm about to die
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