On the Precipice, We Found a Face Paler Than Death

The thing about bleeding from the conscious
is that eventually the streams finish
It starts off thick, rushing out like nature's discharge 3 hours past its notice
The mind is stoned, so high that people might look sideways at the twisting of your expression
But by the end, you're so relieved of sensation that you run out of words to even describe it.
And there you'll lie, tormented as your mind leaves you whittled and broken

No more words left now
But the angel promised you a grand surmise
Let loose your lips
Wail in agony
Agonize in tranquility

And she sings, hush babe
I have not lied to you
For whom shall not grow bored of that he has so constant in his breast.
For whom shall not forget me when I have given all he desires
Clutch me
Clutch me as I have embraced your will
We shall become one
And I shall never leave your side.
Bleed for me
And you'll find your life awaiting at the end of that deprived tunnel you tread
I know you wish for death at the hands of your heart
But stay with me, and you'll always have the void

After all, you can't live what you can't see.

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed