A Substitute for Paradise

I trapped my thoughts in the sixth corner

of my head.

I do not admit to the pain,

the suffering caused to me

by your passing whispers.

I would like to die by accident,

but my guardian angel was late

for work again.

I'm floating on a wave

of anger and hatred, the truth is

no longer in my tears.

I found this moment when

life decides to return to the beginning

of the autobiography.

The black flame of faith

smolders within me.

Those who survived the most

will find themselves on the line

between evil and humility.

If you want, I will lend you my soul.

Time has left a few blemishes

on the black skin of my heart.

Eternity ceased to be a substitute

for paradise.

My words are drifting

in opposite directions.

Such memories will come

when our antipodes meet.

Reviews

[M. J. Smith]

I am always turned in the head by you! I must read twice to understand. Reminds of some of the better stream of conciousness material form the beats of the fifties.