The slick silver scalpel
Deftly slices out memories.

The wielder leaves no
Reasoning to flow through
Veins full of blemishes and apathy.

Division sealed.

A burdened heart
Recognizes no known crime,
For the punishment suffered.

© 2012 Patrick Lee Marshall
All rights reserved
June 8th, 2012

Sometimes I find it hard.
I question why.
Though I think I know the answer.
Too many times
It seems, it is all for others;
My punishment I suspect!
Why would I continue?
But…I do.
So far,
Over 37 million steps,
Still looking forward,
Can’t look back…
© 2013 Patrick Lee Marshall
All rights reserved
20130122-1.1

I teeter at the edge of an abyss,
Like all others extremely deep and dark,
And, in the fiery depths below I see,
Proven; the ancient Devil’s Mark.

The stench of death escapes out of a vent
Knocking me off my feet with gas and heat;
I gag, cough and fight to draw some fresh air
For this ominous feeling, I must defeat.

Staring into that blasted evil pit
I see familiar hungry eyes below.
This is a place I have been before,
No longer, is this a place I care to go.

One of Hell’s outposts for the Devil,
Places that trap the minds of souls.
I was caught here once by my loneliness
Barely found my way out of these Hell holes.

I will fight to avoid being caught here.
I will fight to give my heart back to Love.
But if you get caught there for a while
You will understand… what I’m speaking of.


Patrick Lee Marshall
©All rights reserved, 2011
May 22nd, 2011