MIRED

“MIRED”
Consumed by pent up aggression,
Surrounded by suffocating depression,
Lying in the grave, searching for my confession,
There’s no more expression.
Scarred to my soul, hell leaves it’s impression.

Open up, and embrace me, sweet loneliness.
Put the knife through me, suicide’s lovely malice.
Imbibe the poison blood from the lying chalice.
Drowned by the soul’s crumbling palace.

Is there not, a peace that’s sacred?
I’m sordid,
A vessel left naked,
A beggar forsaken and degraded.

Empty prayers are mired in confusion.
My soul cowers in fear of divine retribution.
Vile creatures declare spiritual mutilation.
Self sacrifice the final solution.
COPYRIGHT 2005: MATT THOMPSON