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James Wayne Aug 2020
The morning woken to the screams of your name
A madman engraving the wound kept deep within
How could pain and bile be the love child of our love
Why, Why. Heedlessly seep through the crevices of my embrace

Uncontrollably floating to surface, flickers of a time long supressed
A time, where the chord that reverberates today, was oblivious to me
Where mornings were woken to milk, honey and your bare bosoms
The blood ring still hidden, ignorantly waiting for its moment

Concocted narcotics became the crutch to sustain life
A tightrope balanced only on the prayers of my widowed mother
Fate rejecting schedule, despite keepers awaiting arrival
An atheist by circumstance, fearing the inevitable silence

Seeping from deep within, the carnage still sings
unable to abandon the memories, I cling to this realm

— The End —