deepundergroundpoetry.com

Rising form the dead

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Once again. covered in blood and ash,
through the smoke and useless trash
I come crawling back to you.
The fabric of my little world never lasts.
No matter how sweet the sleep
I abandon it all as I hear you weep.
And I heard it still, through my cowardice, �
drugged and powerless... �
incomplete in the wold of the beast.
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Despite the ways of my abuse,
I find you still standing, tall and evergreen
Welcoming my frozen gene.
I put my head down in shame, as time is lost
and I'm to blame
He's there with you, the angel of death
Waiting to harvest our last breath.
But there is still a chance �
to escape the trance.
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I played charades with ropes and knots
Flowed silently with poisoned plots
Tried fitting it with fools and tools
But the truth is, I rather return the natural rules
Than live in this festering corpse we made
I rather play than become played
I'm sick of the contrast, and the black and white squares
so I call upon you, and I return to you
The climb ahead is tall, and I might still fall.
But I'll try and try, till my last breath.
Its all I have to give

in this world of living death.

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