Convexed heart
Perplexed start

Puzzled by the puzzle

Mapped by the maker

It all crashing
Skies were clashing

Splattered with triumph
                    filled with wine
Destined for bloodshed
Wood transformed to crimson red

Enter the poem to press done
Something dramatic containing rhythm or a "gun"
Bold here
Italic there

Maybe some spacing
Will make it formal and casual tasting

What poets are we?

A poet to add pressure to pixels
Or a poet to paint the art from bristles

Either way
We are just people speaking what nobody can say

Despair in the deepest

Living each day just to live
Breathing each breath just to breath

Rising to just live on the surface
This corpse more dead than any source of purpose


Infection creeps up on you, the worlds collide
The fire spreads from fingernail to the roots deep inside

Thoughts become habit
Habits become disease

Infected and congested

Gun in the left
                        sword in the right
The life of death or the selfless
                                                   fight
                                         Reaching out to seek
Thoughts become twisted and oblique

Thoughts going astray, the cylindrical barrel fitting nicely to the temple
Tears grazing the crescent figure of my dimple

Sword used to carve a smile
           and disguise the sufferings
Giving me hope, I want to stay on this hell for a little while

Caramelized and sugar coated with sweetness
Discover the bitter core engraved with crimson
Chocolate covered sacrifice, you can taste the bitter spoken love and complete

Consume the message as a snack
But love and brutalize life with truth

Speak the words given
Hold the sword that's received
Preach nothing but the actions  conceived

Abhor all left and the answer will come out right

Path leads to destruction and obliteration?
Grasp the complication

Ripple like a pebble smashing water with the thousand significant waves to come
Nothing more than the cross and melodious cords that are left to song but right from the start of the one who tore out his heart

Rises to wake
                         gathers ingredients to his recipe
Bakes
           the darkness away

Feeling good until his ingredients run to none

Whipped
shredded
and confined by shards repelling the light
With every whip
                              flesh torn to reveal the wine of
                  The One keeping the world together with zero smite

         Nine tails
            Twelve disciples  
   Three nails


Together now separated
Conformity now calamity
Vulnerable now inevitable

Condemned
                     now
                             forgiven