Untitled
I sit here in the dark
with one tiny flame of
a nearly spent candle
watching my blood pour
out of my wrist like
sand from the broken
glass of an ancient time keeper.
I am the wielder of the steel
that carved the deadly
bed of crimson river in my
pale and tender flesh.
My tentative hope was
to experience just the
smallest amount of feeling
within me only to
discover my soul had long
left me empty.
I have desecrated what little
my God has left me
because I wished for
something I was
not worthy of.
Now I wait to see
which light fades out faster
Mine or the candle.
with one tiny flame of
a nearly spent candle
watching my blood pour
out of my wrist like
sand from the broken
glass of an ancient time keeper.
I am the wielder of the steel
that carved the deadly
bed of crimson river in my
pale and tender flesh.
My tentative hope was
to experience just the
smallest amount of feeling
within me only to
discover my soul had long
left me empty.
I have desecrated what little
my God has left me
because I wished for
something I was
not worthy of.
Now I wait to see
which light fades out faster
Mine or the candle.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.