Death Knell
There is no hope.
But it’s the hope which kills.
So that’s alright then.
The shock is always unforgiving.
No matter that what
is known is certain.
It was all for all this nothingness.
It was all for all this nothingness.
Never so alive than near death,
so that's OK then.
I suppose,
I guess.
Because that's what they say.
Because that's what they say.
I guess.
Because that's what they say.
Because that's what they say.
Real death cuts off the fuel pipe:
tragic humiliation;
creation of mess.
Leaves everyone lonely, feeling alone.
Leaves everyone lonely, feeling alone.
The sunrise is aflame,
winter will be soon.
And cold will be less.
Tried to convey
my eyes to other human beings:
it’s a chaotic emptiness.
A chaotic emptiness through me.
A chaotic emptiness through me.
Why does my body keep on operating when my life keeps on killing me?
I won't see all history
and what might do for me
is a failing single infinitesimal artery.
Pre-programmed to go involuntary.
Pre-programmed to go involuntary.
Intravenous me,
hydrate me.
Strip the enamel from my teeth.
Wheels, cords and sticks is all I am.
Bless me as I run.
Moon up-lights rain from underneath.
Rain like silver razor blades.
Razor blades slice like this rain.
I read and I read and bleed
until lines
sink deep
through the pages.
I write and I write
and I write and writhe
until
lines are thick bars of cages.
We are standing on the death knell.
We are standing on the death knell.
The flowers I picked for your hand hold the scent of other days.
I wish there were other flowers for other days
There will be other days.
There will be other days.
There will be other days.
There will be other days.
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