They will speak of me in a downward tone
with a voice of mourning upon the funeral of dead soldiers
they will sing of me in avant garde with octaves hitting the lowest
pit in the fires where souls banish and come back for continuous agony
hands reaching out of a purgatory living in the walls of this asylum will
move in rhythmic patterns of a high fashion and a noble art
elegant and unwilling, shaking and drilling
breathing you will see the souls of these anarchists rise
from the stigmatic allure of their concentrated assets
reaching out as if to hold back shunning all the disbelief that pain is the
obscured enemy of this life, when all he teaches is the appreciation of happiness
violence and how it intricate's  a human welt
barred in chains of a forsaken emotion
deeply rooted in the hearts of a barren people
I will speak these words forever as I walk through a muse of history
with each second that passes I will preach my sighs of a
hopeless pain
I will refuse to lock myself behind thick wooden doors inside
when it rains
my diary leaks with its tattered and frail pages symphonies of a deep
understanding on what is hidden in the eyes of those humans
who spark my deepest curiosity in the gazes of a mournful living
a light tap on the shoulder and I will drop and show you how these things bleed,
like animals spirits hunting and killing their unseeing prey
there is no survival here only a continuation of evanescence and death
and moments of a calming laughter in between
exposing myself to life's blood time and time again,
and a acquired taste for wisdom
and that deep pit that the miners of life dig through me to find my diamonds
and when they do, I am happy
but the hole goes in so deep that I am left with no breathe and I am drained of life
so that I may wake up in the morning anew and lively again
come into me and speak to my reaper
so that I may expose the divinity that I
hide away in my jewelery box of art and criminal behaviors
a Victorian and bizarre mistress
I have held the hearts of many in between my man like hands consumed by a womanly fragrance
my neck pulsates, and you can see my veins
I tear down these curtains
they will speak of me and how I have no shame