Broken One

I'm sickly at the moment because I haven't been sleeping well. None the less, here's another poem. I hope to be back on my feet in a few days.

They put me back together, to watch me fall apart

And when I’m cast out of heaven, I won’t have fallen far

 

As the bomb of shattered salamanders reanimates back into a serpentine heartbeat

Born again a renegade, from the dreams of a memory

 

They stitched the veins into an art eerie, that screamed the face of Death and called it a blood vessel

As the blood sweat and crocodile tears, killed more of me than you could possibly tell

 

Hell’dawn to the moment until it slipped through my fingers

Grasped the hourglass’s lingering will which pulled the shattered strings of the monster

 

Puppeteer of veneers egotistical infinitesimal, a photo of prototypes

Scream of the door slamming on its hinges, fringing on what it means to be human

 

Dream of a shattered world, that must continue reshaping through homo-sapiens

As the tick talk secondhand clock of a carcass fleas from the sanctuary body bagging killing time

 

He made me to punish their sin, that they summon slumbering from within

Coldhearted is the chest you treasure, free will is a weapon

 

A sin

I am the Broken One

 

Who has watched the outcasts splatter the pavement grey with the ash of hearts of coal

As only heaven knows, what those devils owe

 

To fly on the feathers of nebula’s is to see your high hopes fall dark as the setting sun

When you’re stuck on the bottom, the shadows look tall, as the clockwork runs

 

I watch from the sidelines stumbling behind the blind lies

It’s so easy to fall when you’ve lost the wings to fly

 

The bitter truth is hard to swallow

Sickly sweet they lie, what collapsed must learn to rise again

 

And walk the earth or fall to time

Such is the path of simple men

 

They put me back together, just to watch me fall apart

And when I’m an outcast of heaven, I won’t have had a heart

Hide the spill and drown on your own blood

Stitch the silk and hang on webs

Spring the trap and trip the thread

Heartstings play as we strum our veins

Tie the knots and lock in place

The chains that swing imprisoning the guillotines that gave me a cut of the prophets

Man will follow me like a shadow of a doubt in god

But they don't have a hope in hell, but to despair for heaven

 

Author's Note

I promise I read every single review, and I generally will reply to them. I look forward to my next review, because it helps me learn. Even if it's just one word, I promise, I will be happy to hear anything you feel needs sharing. Whenever you write on my shortcomings or breakthroughs, or the themes of my poems, or share ideas and friendly criticism, it decides my next poem to an extent. I will listen, learn and be thankful. And 99% of the time, you'll get a reply unless you're trolling me.