I am disturbed

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
my greatest poem

Submitted: January 15, 2007

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Submitted: January 15, 2007

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I can show you the chill of murder,

I can help you feel the chill of death.

I am disturbed.

I see no sunlight.

I see no darkness.

I am but a fantasy.

My life is intoxicated with pain.

My brain; swarmed by the fumes of the majestic.

The majestic bewitched.

Their blood left running.

It will never dry.

The ghosts of death,

they feel none.

They will be of no mercy.

They remember the past,

haunt the future,

are in love with the present.

Won’t let it continue,

won’t it end.

The demons of evil,

they show them the way,

The way of the water buffalo.

They glide through the many territories,

seeing all that is.

Not understanding,

not giving in.

The running shadows taunt,

leading the trip of passion.

Who knows the speak of the dead?

There is only one language,

that of the living.

Who is the living but the dead?

Who is the sane but the insane?

I have known many lives,

this one is very odd.

The path of the evil blue,

yet the path of the man in white shoes is white.

Who is to explain the sanctum?

There shall be no sanctum!

No sanctum without deliverance,

deliverance from the sacred unknown.

Who knows but I?

I…who is disturbed.


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