Blood and Tears

drip drip drip
drip drip drip
The ruby and lucid globules abscond downwards,
descending towards the darkest Pandemonium,
the plunge ultimately released,
as the pure platonic lifedrops are shattered into apathetic oblivion,
dying,
dying,
expiring on the stable inimical ground, dissolving, fading, forgotten.
drip drip drip
drip drip drip
The bleeding of melancholy has been happening for eons,
his life has become dark death itself.
The pain is now resolute,
and yet clandestine,
a flagitious secret to the world.
The scars and lacerations concealed to spying eyes,
preventing awkward questions.
His world is ugly, dull and tragic.
drip drip drip
drip drip drip
A disturbed isolated soul, a crushed spirit.
No one touched his heart, and his heart was lonely.
He had embraced the world with his emotions,
and only got back cool rejection.
An refugee from society, now he is not of this world,
An exile, he doesn't belong here,
and seeks an outlet to Hades.
drip drip drip
drip drip drip
Feelings of guilt, feelings of sorrow.
He doesn't want to die, just he doesn't want to live.
Hanging on only to promises and hopes of dreams,
wishing he had never been born into this unnatural world
to shed his blood and tears.
drip drip drip
drip drip drip
drip drip
drip drip
drip
drip
silence.

Mark Snellgrove
9 September 1996