Introspection

Introspection

By: Kemo779

When I look at the mirror, I examine a reflection of uncertainty.

A bleached image seeking colour on the canvas of rigidity.

An undertaker planning the funeral of a child's serenity.

The son of winter sleeping on the cradle of reality.

I have passed by the graves, and I've seen the dead dancing in abnormality.

Practising a never forsaken ritual, summoning the curator of Elysium.

Writing in the book of poetry, mastering the arts of trivium.

A peculiar scenery, an excuse for those accused of infamy.

And I keep on drawing her innocent and seductive body that I haunt.

But not even in my heavenly dreams shall I receive it, for it is not what the Gods wants.

Yet I conjure her in my dreams and she plants her seeds in my sleep.

Her bittersweet weeping siren voice sings sweet melodies that befriend my desperateness in the deep.

And she laughs and she cries, she accepts and she sighs, she appreciates and she tries, but I wake up crying over my reality and the affection I can't let go due to my split personality.

I can't help it with the itch, I'm scratching venomous blood out of a never healing stitch.

The door is locked now, and I've kicked everyone who tried to purify.

My sins are beyond forgiveness, I need a scapegoat to crucify.

I am carrying the child of bitter dismay out of the womb.

A horrendous fate awaits me, a parent with great insignificance awaiting burial inside a tomb.

To be the bright colour in a black and white landscape.

To be the spectator of the slaves and the oblivious victims of self rape.

To wish someone else's reality in each passing frame.

To fit with the apes and lose individuality for barbarians with no sense of shame.

Where demons are in control and angels point fingers at God to blame.

A tiny glimpse of the holy land will tell you it's everything but.

Inhabited by indoctrinated fools who blame the knife for every cut.

Perhaps I will spend the rest of my days crying for the moon.

Like a pale widow in distress, sobbing in the aftermath of losing her groom.