THey call upon us

Somehow I never quivered,
Somehow I never swayed,
Somehow I stayed motionless,
Somehow you seemed dismayed...

It is not that which I say
Like my heart beats the Axe
Which could split so easily
Slit to halves, white on black

My soul remains silent
As mute as a bird
For birds may spurr sound
Yet nothing as words

Words twisted and tangled
Through thought and through mind
I wish I could mangle
'Til they'd truly be mine...

My own, how blissful
Life is with its smoothing
Shallow tones, carving
Scars which never be soothing

Growing deeper and deeper
Feeding off what alters
Devouring mind...
So on, I wait for shelter

Wait for the moment
When time turns to fate
With a soft bleeding hand
Begging avenge his own hate;

How monotonous wait seems,
With its slow shallow curves
It twists and it mangles
Just as smooth mangled words...

whisper.