I sit here enchained in woe
finding trails that lead to you
for all reasons I don't know
under spell of
longing tunes
why do linings I've long severed
wrap around my tired hands
you make my life a broken record
my thoughts cliché
my poems bad
skin reopens where I've bled
the old empress reinstated
if yours are laws that rule my head
I'd rather be
decapitated
and what's the myth you've left me with
a sorry joke with shades of humor
I guess there's giggle in your filth
while it rots
my little tumor
so to have you all these years
I must've been a necromancer
til the man I am appeared
to kill the boy
who got your cancer.
Weit Weg
©tensei
T