The twenty-one gun jury’s been hung,
my assumed verdict, overthrown.
Acquitted by the left hand,
condemned by the right,
a last request—
Think not of me as an aberration,
although perhaps I am,
Do not know where I shall go
nor care if there is anything after.
let me be absolved --
For all that remains is the weight
of thought that rages through me,
the rapid pendulum.
I am not innocent.
There is no recourse.
In this solitude, the only existence is
being alone and depressed
and the tearing of my skin
Sweet Steel, slip silently in.
Jun 3, 2010
Jun 3, 2010 at 8:28 AM UTC
The twenty-one gun jury’s been hung,
my assumed verdict, overthrown.
Acquitted by the left hand,
condemned by the right,
a last request—
Think not of me as an aberration,
although perhaps I am,
Do not know where I shall go
nor care if there is anything after.
let me be absolved --
For all that remains is the weight
of thought that rages through me,
the rapid pendulum.
I am not innocent.
There is no recourse.
In this solitude, the only existence is
being alone and depressed
and the tearing of my skin
Sweet Steel, slip silently in.