I write these words while I am still myself
The price paid as my cold soul burns
No longer possessing the impediment of a heart
It’s the script for which I yearn
Jumping to and fro throughout memories and time
My life subtly disguised in misleading illusions and vague erratic rhyme
My eccentricity I have little or no inclination to explain
Nor the secret corners of my fragmented thoughts
Where revenge and malevolence play
......
I write these words while I am still myself
The price paid as my cold soul burns
No longer possessing the impediment of a heart
It’s the script for which I yearn
Jumping to and fro throughout memories and time
My life subtly disguised in misleading illusions and vague erratic rhyme
My eccentricity I have little or no inclination to explain
Nor the secret corners of my fragmented thoughts
Where revenge and malevolence play
......