"poet"ic justice

As pencil hits paper time slows by a millisecond due to the release of emotions shaped with curves and loops and bends into the language of my birth but not my ancestry the words flow as this is the only justice a poet knows and three only one I deserve the entrapment of sins cages of pain holding indiscretions and memories hidden away in caves of deepening emotion filed with beasts of terrifying depths from the depths of a mind that craves more then p poetic justice if that's even what it can be called...poetic justice...what of when I am at a loss for words but my soul still hurts my heart aches what will my mind do it is not compete as within depths of infinite it sits seeing the world through x Ray seeing through the darkened shroud of LIES poetic justice hardly gratified these tears women cry the bodies left where they died what reasons withheld the love o yearn for where is my justice where is my woman who was born and wish to be handled warmly and who I did so for but after they began to ignore me night has arrived... And where is my justice if that is what it may be called... Poetic justice... As waves pass over in color stars seem to die and be reborn as they flash over head not far above me the moon traverses the sky while unspeakable deeds are done deeds not able to be accepted in the realm of the sun that causes fear and anger and where is the justice if that is what it may be called... Poetic justice...lost in the mouth of madness day arrives and justice had not been served