Another dusk came as he laid in his coffin, dreaming: a nightmare that he once lived but failed to breathe. He loved no one. He didn't know how. He never cared to. Didn't learn love as a kid. And so, no one loved him. How could they? He lived too busy in sin to be in love or loved. Now, forever in death, he lie restless full of hate, stuck in the earth, wondering if he were in heaven or hell, rotting and rotting as Death became him. Death was him. A dirty soul. His fate was now the meat of worms.
“Lunacy” comes from the moon, Who cycles through brilliance and darkness Bipolarity’s patterns are not so easily assumed Opposites not so well harnessed Who cycles through brilliance and darkness? The girl who sits in bed, wrestling with Opposites. Not so well harnessed As she thought, her brain gives reason the slip The girl who sits in bed, wrestling with Her body, depressed, her thoughts manic. As she thought, her brain gave reason the slip And gives the gift of life in a dreamlike panic. Her body depressed her thoughts. Manic Lunacy comes from the moon And gives the gift of life in a dreamlike panic Bipolarity’s patterns are not so easily assumed
Comments
Post a Comment