| » Poem: Celebrations of the dying |
Celebrations of the dying
written by Poison Ivy11:40 PM 10/31/04Once upon a time
in a land filled with solitude
where the shadows play
there are black stones that form a river bed
holding a blood-red water stream mixed with salt.
Go ahead,
pour it in my wounds
and watch me cry.
We’re on our knees begging
“Save us, Lord! Please, save us!”
But only the demons account for us.
There’s no salvation, no forgiveness.
No amount virgins blood can rinse away my lifetime’s worth of sin
nothing can make me clean again.
You cant break me from my tradition
you cant heal me from my addictions
the blade I use is always bleeding
you cant silence my screaming wounds
they’ll never shut up.
Is this me? Or is it the poison?
I’m still bleeding, like I’m still crying.
Go ahead,
embed me deeply in the soil of your literary criticism
your unfavorable judgement.
drown me in you imaginativeness
because of my visual modality.
Redeem me, Lord!
cant you hear me?
I know you hear me
you’re always watching.
Celebrate my hard earned death
I’ll be watching when you die and burn in hell with me. . . |
All (c)Copyrights reserved by the Original Author.
Author's footnotes and comments on this Poem:
i was just really pissed
[ View Poison Ivy's Profile ] [ Go to the Poetry Portal ]
This Poem has been viewed 379 times
|
|
| » Comments / Feedback | by IceBound (11-1-2004 - 03:42 PM)
|
|
|
|
