//mypoeticside.com/

baj-a

Tripped

 

 

Don’t remember when I tripped

don’t remember when I fell

into the arms of the devil

into the fires of hell.

Thought I’d mended my wings

spread them wide to fly

headed for the heavens

the bright blue cloud filled skies.

The fires burn around me

my scars are raw and red

pain sears through my soul

I’m alive and yet I’m dead.

The flames tear at my flesh

when you look at me what do you see?

Do you see tomorrow’s guilt?

Is there anything left that used to be?

My wings are burnt to a crisp

from my body they do fall

my being melts in the heat

until I’m not there at all.

My mouth opens wide to scream

the pain rips like hot knives

I pray this is not real

the agony my senses deprive.

My footing never was secure or firm

my hold on sanity not strong

now I’m fodder for the worms

is this the place where I belong?

I met the devil at the end of the line

his tongue was silver and gold

his words like fine Irish lace

were a beauty to behold.

Restitution for my life I must pay

forever to burn in the flame

crying out in desperation

to hear someone call my name.