Cold

Hi. Sorry, I have been gone for a while. I have been doing exams and I havent been inspired lately. To be stuck in a runt that you cant get out of is tough and a pain in the ass. Its normal for a writer. Some days, you have no inspiration. This poem I wrote a while ago. I didnt know if I was going to post it or not. But here it is. I dedicate this poem to the people who have inner turmoils that they dont want to talk about. Please, dont be silent about your problems. That does more harm then good. Tell someone. Believe me, you will feel much better for it.

 

God has his priests and his kings,

He waits for you.

He waits for you to enter

His gates,

And to be with him.

Be filled with warmth,

To be happy.

All you need to do is let go.

A small incision,

Cold poison leaves your veins

And memories fade away.

Happy faces pass through your mind,

Forgettable faces.

Who was that I met on the bus today?

Who was that I met at that poetry reading?

Why do I keep remembering your deep blue eyes?

Or brown eyes?

Or green?

Then your face appears,

Deformed and

Filled with pits of darkness in your eyes.

“There is only you”

“And you are nothing”, the face speaks

With demonic sounds,

And wields a knife in their hand.

Just one action and it will be over.

I am human,

And no one cares.

I am me,

And no one cares.

The only place on Earth

Where anyone can truly be one,

Can truly care for each other,

Is in Heaven.

God has his priests and his kings.

He has waited for you.

“Welcome, my child” he speaks

As he crowns you in laurel leaves,

You are now his king.

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