Conundrom

Torn away by the anger,
I cannot shed these tears no more.

I am drained of all the torment,
I can no longer close the door.

Too late for an obscene call,
The twisted barbs of wire strangle me through blood soaked clothes.

Restless the memories begin to drive their knives through me.

Every vein broken and slashed against reflected thoughts.

Till all is lost and no more can the strongest one bow with integrity.

The lost have now become found, confined to a new day of poverty stricken with obedience and objection to fight.

Inside the pale face of a fallen day, death follows itself into the shadows as it becomes nothing to the world it once knew.

Everything has become an ancient existing in the nothing, the abyss, the hole of a born lie.

Drenched in the tears of sorrow another day begins anew and everything repeats itself till nothing can concur the values of a sacrificial suicide.