Bedlam Beckons
By Lone Poet
Life has little meaning anymore, I ask myself, “What is it all for?” Unseen forces; heart and soul bled, Remorse’s knife slashes toes to head Who knows of my depressing lowly fate, Does it lead to an evil fortress of hate? Or do love's passionate kisses forever await, Above Eden’s oppressively pristine heavenly gate? Lurking behind eternal shadows, Where the crisp zephyr wind blows Whispering berserk sweet nothings, Scattered cinder ashes of my sins Aborted, dead and buried underground, Not one bedamned fellow mortal to be found Surrounded by hell’s somber devil dog hounds, At the bottom of Bedlam, no living sound Alas, there’s no more to give, As long as I grow and strive I shall succumb slowly to death, With each plummeting breath © 2/16/02 SmSHit rock bottom. Too much crap to deal with these days. If not for a certain group of pee-in-my-pants funny and beautiful, kindhearted fellow poets, I'd be lost... gone with the wind. "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn!" Written February 24th, 2002 © on Feb 23 2002 06:00 PM PST, Sheryl Marcia Schwartz 12 • 11 • 1
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"Life has little meaning anymore,..."