The sky is empty –
I am ****** down here.
Hell is in my heart,
It is burning through my blood.
Its relentless beating, scorching
Will leave me to ashes;
I am ****** to myself.
The sky is empty –
The world is divinely alone.
Sadness greets me like a lover,
It is omnipresent, it listens, it watches
It envelopes me like a dark cloak
Its gentle familiarity
Is my favourite sin.
I clasp my hands together just to feel I am living,
That I exist in my skin.
The sky is empty –
I shed a tear,
a drop of holy water.
I have felt. I am cleansed. In the depths of my misery,
I am blessed.
It is nighttime.
I contemplate the
dark sky, with its distant stars.
I create the world again.
Let there be light, I say.
an ode to rimbaud, credit to 'A Season In Hell'