deepundergroundpoetry.com

alchemical

your body holds the score
of all the pain you bore before
you found the strength
to fight these crimes of treason

is it not overkill?
we�re stepping through the blood we�ve spilled
staring into the eyes of an unexpecting victim
the shackles of shame have become my grave

can I hold on to my faith?
or is it written in my fate?
the lies they told me lacerate
stripping me down to the core of my pain

can I let go of my blame?
another season another game
we are not the same. I am the rain
seeping down into the mud after the war

I came back adorned in heavy thorns
bloomed a rose as I knelt to pick up the sword
to slay the demons rioting outside my door
no amount of suffering will keep me on the floor

I�m in uproar because I know there�s more
than the crumbs smoking up my favorite bowl
and it�s breaking out of my chest at least once more
this body may hold the score, but I am the alchemist