Last writes

My words will eventually devour me: Father
I hold the tool within my mind
it poisions and cannot be confined
my prayer they fall through heavens floor
the devil waits and sweeps them towards
the caldrons roar
the tempest churn within my all
self harm its eating like zombie worms
the empty ear, departed care
pages with a bloody tear
and bleed without pubicity
love so close, hate to choke
my own ode, a last discorse