dark sky is weeping,
down a heaven, tears-
sparkling in the sky,
until the sun ends,
everything in its path.
i sat by the window,
as the light ate away
my walls apart.
i hid away by the shadows,
in the hollow, with my scars,
a touch that belongs to no eye,
so much to live a lie.
then bird's came to life,
echoing the nature calling
my name, from afar,
and here i sat, on my throne,
alone and scared, finding
a star.
so cold, as i have always been,
but more now, that the ice
melts, heaven is hell if you have
a need to sin, a want to dim the
divine lights, those, that burn
through the sky every mourning.
to every morning that has
suffered, to every breath
that has struggled to put a name
on lonely whispers-
there's a greed in my veins,
to turn blue and dark,
black eyes, charcoal brain,
a piece of coal for a heart,
so coarse and strange,
stranger still, than you can
ever tell.
there's only noise in silence,
if you don't learn to spell.
only things in the light and
it's violence, no stories and
mysteries to sell, no poet to
bleed, no ghosts to feed, so naked,
with no secrets to read,
in hell, in mayhem.
and as it claimed my home-
the light, i saw my night,
and i prayed, i wished.
and as the light broke in-to me,
kissed me a disease, i could see
the storm approaching-
roaring from far, and with it,
a heaven.
What if good is bad and nice is ugly, the mad, a philosophy ?