Mortii

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: January 05, 2018

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Submitted: January 05, 2018

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Kill me,

with such words that stab, cut, and maim,  

severed then brought back to life,

with the last few.

Suffer me,

to know I understand, accept, and tolerate,  

finding peace with bloodied strife, 

in each the turn of this screw.

Bury me,

way down deep into nowhere, know how and not why,

assuming I could never escape,

with them, by my side.

Watch me,

build an army of dead words, softly spoken in this life from the grave,

then resurrect this truth,

with the last few;

such a peaceful death I dream,

free, uncondemned, and waiting,

out of place,

smiling with eyes that are deafening.

 

 


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