Once I sat alone in a dark room,
Trying my hardest to make something good.
Nothing would flow, not a word.
Nothing to show would I have, not one work.
However, I heard a sound.
A chilling sound that I could not recount.
I looked above me and lo and behold,
An angel stood there and I was stricken with woe.
You, he said, are not pleasing.
God, he said, you are not heeding.
Yes, I responded, I know but im ill.
He did not respond or seem to be bothered.
You have disappointed the Father, said he
And he perched himself again above me.
And then I felt something change!
Suddenly, I was less deranged so to say.
I looked to my arms and the scars I no longer hid,
But then to my horror I saw what he did.
My skin was like iron!
And my veins they were wires!
And then I shut down,
And the angel frowned.
Suddenly I awoke once more,
And saw no angel at my door.
This wasn’t totally frightening, this vision,
But I was still glad to see blood running crimson.
I wonder what this thought process was
My mind I’m sure, must be abuzz