Thursday, April 9, 2015


Poem from the Voice of Dementia (2005-2006) collection

A helpless soul shrieks inside,
Trying to tear skin and flesh
Tugs the chords of the beating heart
Pleading for a carefree breath.
The world outside lays paralyzed,
Writhing in pain the soul is trapped down deep.
Inching away from living blood,
Scathing the cage of existence so weak.
It is destined to embrace the skies,
But its wings are chained to me.
Me! And my mortal self!
Responsible for this melancholy.
How I wish I could set it free!
I am chained as well!
To the flesh, and the crimson blood,
I am just another caged angel. 

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