A proverbial twist on my human mind,
My thoughts escape me.
This foreign concept of letting go,
Of giving in to hate,
Is my internal infliction.
Desperate crying, looking at a wounded sky;
I am bound to feign deceit.
My disillusioned ego berates me,
Torments me.
Am I worthy of such pride?
A splattering of images
Crammed into the existential bottle
And thrown to the sea of my confessions.
I am a soulless monster,
I am god's divine messenger,
I am valued and worthless.
I am a portrait of myself,
Lying to the mirror,
Clutching to the past of my wreckage.
My conquered grievance,
Holy savages,
Likens me to my heart.
I am my own eulogy.