Patrick Szwaja Poems

i have walked the ashes of hell

i have stood the fiery baptism
...

the world comes to a pinnacle

perceptions warps with the wind
...

a cleansing of the wicked

or damnation of the weak
...

your words trace shivers down my spine

if only they were your fingers
...

breeding violence unrevoking

embers blaze to the flames you’re stoking
...

i taste a storm on the wind

repentance for all those that sin
...

the sirens lay weeping bloody tears

from the gouged remains of their eyes
...

i feel out of place this early awake

i lose all sentiments during the day
...

is this recreation?

or pure self-destruction
...

you’d be surprised

at the peace of mind
...