Introverted Soliloquy

The air is toxin for the bulls and the oxen,

cattle slaughtered by psychology.

 

Introverted soliloquy, complication of our own annihilation,

Self centered philosophy, a circumspect revelation.

The basic facts-we live then die, and there's no coming back,

I see the world in seperate shades of grey, as my heart bleeds black.

I bleed for the tragedy-the parody of the 'freedom' of life,

when flesh itself is a coffin, the soul itself is a knife,

and the very air we breathe serves only to suffocate...

 

And they tell me that their's something pretty here,

in all the grey roses and grass, then all they go near,

their hands find a thorn.

The blackness stains black earth even more,

No ideal can fix the abstract reason for

the cruelty of being born.

 

Life is a very disconcerting ember behind a blank face,

porcelain and decorated for the eyes of the ignorant fools...

burning up, and burning away, leaving not a trace,

of the happiness or sadness, or lessons of the consumed tools.

 

I am beginning to see clear as day the smoke dissipate,

and reveal a smile for the ethereal intimate.

 

Introverted soliloquy, complication of our own annihilation,

Self centered philosophy, a circumspect revelation.

The basic facts-we live then die, and there's no coming back,

I see the world in seperate shades of grey, as my heart bleeds black.

I bleed for the tragedy-the parody of the 'freedom' of life,

when flesh itself is a coffin, the soul itself is a knife,

and the very air we breathe serves only to suffocate...

Reviews

[Naomi Montana Walsh]

Very intelligent writing ..I was going to pick a few favorite lines .. but there were many.. the tone somewhat negative ..I almost want to spin it around but I know what it is like to be in the state of mind this poem reflects..anyhow I think you wrote it well.