The poetry of the dead

Black fairy tales
of onyx seeking
and acronyms
provoking sin
dance within
my tongue of chaos
but none is speaking
of truths unseen.

Conjoined lies
of self-deception:
my existence slights
what she unwished;
this curse has been
beyond my power,
hyenas eat
the bisons' bliss.

Beauty of death,
I'm awfully homesick.
It's been so long
I've been carrying pain.
It's time to walk
this labyrinth carefree.
Time to let go
of mental cocaine.

I'm no victim but
I can pretend it
This old cassette
is on auto play.
Let's hear in reverse
the secret meaning
and overwrite
just "seize the day".