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Image for the poem Black Swan

Black Swan

Lonely, naked, in the corn fields,
a stranger to this new awakening,
stitching upon new found flesh,
upon the recently perished dead.
 
A bloody vessel cannot sail,
and the pull-ness from the tide,
and the fields whip the wind gale,
and this leaves the shape open blind
the blind-ness sees with open shut eyes
 
spinning sweet, saliva,
to our child-hood waifa
innocence turns to antics,
bronze bleeding from spear,
your lips turn to frantic,
and I turn in, surrender defeated.
 
A tide is the bloody and thirsty,
a victim to grind of the axe,
sweaty eagles dive into the river,
to die and can't seem to relax.
 
The eagle's claws so sharp,
and the angels play the harp,
watching the hare ripped apart,
another gone glow, child eat the tart.
a witness to a storm of chaos,
 
the rodeo and all whipping lassos,
the burying and the death
shallow of the sands,
I break apart to bounce up to breathe,
 
The ending of a situation,
is the end of a creation,
fifteen years
can't find the gears,
lost in the now and here,
breathless and I fear.
the applause was the cause,
 
my craft became a special art.
I'm shot in my bleeding goose neck,
and rape of my end is my card's deck,
it will end with the joker's card,
or offensive song from the bard.
Written by Ryan-G-Hayward (Ryan Geoffrey Hayward)
Published
Author's Note
I wrote this piece after 30 liters of red wine and  before taking 50 valium pills, a few days after losing the best job I ever had. There are still trolls trying to get me to suicide because of how envious they became when I rose quickly on another poetry site. When I took the 50 valium pills, it was Dawn Gon-Zeto on all-poetry who encouraged me to do so. This was to be my swan song but sadly I cannot seem to die after 4 suicide attempts. Kate The Shrew & Virus For Life are still obsessed with killing me, making up the worse photoshopped screenshots just so that I'll be dead soon.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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