Shook, Belittled, Trapped; a Tragedy

“Come to the gallows, young friend of mystery”;

Sorrow captures my every move, lovely

Haze fills the air like balloons of dead hopes.

The Devil so kindly chides, gropes

My face; cuts my sanity; drowns my joy.

I am nothing of wonder, but a boy,

Lurking behind the bushes, I tasted

The sweet blood; a sinner so damn wasted.

“What am I, a fiend of some vulgar woe?”,

Said my corpse to the ever-laughing foe.

I am reborn, sent to witness timing;

I am time, sent to gather the fooling;

I am a fool, sent to hellish grounding.

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