Friday, June 1, 2012

The Call For Help

Can anyone help me?
Can anyone hear me?
As I walk down the walkway,
Even with my smile is full,
My insides are charred to the core.
My tears are invisible,
The salt disappears between my teeth,
As the smile still stands.

My hands that hold each other,
They dig into each other's flesh.
The need for help,
The greed of my pitiful heart for someone,
To hold and say to me,
"Everything is all right"
It's devouring my soul.

I whisper to the audience,
Who are all standing corpses.
My hands are ridden with blood,
My eyes are plucked from their sockets,
But I still see the cold hand of the Grimm Reaper.

His smile seems more real then mine,
As I take into account the gentle presence he gives me.
"I do feel dead,
Inside and out is what my life had started with".

But at the last second,
I cut Death's hand in two.
Agony rained from the sky,
As now pure tears streaked down the canvas of my face.

I didn't accept Death,
I didn't accept the audience,
As I stare into my soul who hugs me,
I denied the peace offering,
Reserving the nature to appreciate myself.

"Will life ever ease for myself and my loved ones?"