Treasure Island

Empath In flames

(29.08.1985 / Australia)


I walk through empty alleys most my life,
Running fingertips gently over these icy walls.
They whisper stories of the history behind the scenes,
Explain how streets contain chambers of lies
And when the world runs by through hopes and dreams....
The black spot behind the red drape in society comes crumbling down

In silence....
Or ignorance? ?

A tomb for most,
Caused by drug related mishaps.
A training course for the mentally disturbed...
A vampires first prey,
Or a cloaked superhero’s secrets...
Where reality becomes insanity
It’s not the age that kills a man,
but perhaps a heart that darkens over the years
growing bitter because when you were in trouble people kept walking...

And the guilt for begging seems smaller
and the loose change slowly decreases to where you
feed on rats and body parts to live...
You become cannibal,
Eating yourself to survive,
Curling into a ball changing positions
hoping a couple more hits
will get you through the cold and winter nights....

The wounds that inflict you Freeze,
It slowly turns to ice...
Even on summer days you are tapping yourself,
trying to break from the prison....

Until the cold freezes time itself and you simply die....
You die so easy...
Gave up....
No survivors....

The world moves just as smoothly,
Passed the darks spots
I still walk through these paths,
Because it reminds me who I am....

Because I don’t have a home anymore...

22-08-09: Sat

Submitted: Saturday, August 22, 2009

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Comments about this poem ([ALLEYS] by Empath In flames )

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  • Catrina Heart (8/22/2009 8:09:00 AM)

    wow..... what a great and fantastic poem, fabulous introspection and imageries...well delivered and conceived...10+++ (Report) Reply

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