Wave Of Mutilation

by Thomas A Michel   Jul 3, 2005


I press my forehead on the window
And through it watch children
Playing on the lawn

Desolation pulses through my veins
And my futile fingers reach out for guidance
I savor the blade, sinking deeper than blue

I can taste tranquility for a wavering instance
The anger flows down my arm as the bitter black blood
Burns off my fingertips

Death swims before me in hazy illusion
Images of eternity skip shamelessly through my mind
Pain surrounds, I am resolved to be - still

I run my hand on the tear stained window
And distorted through it
Watch children playing on the lawn.

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