Cut Poem by Insignia Rose

This knife,
has seen such strife;

Such sorrow and sadness,
Such deathly madness;

Cutting so deep,
I feel my bones;

Gnawing at my centered zone,
It scrapes and chisels,
Bleeding me, it fizzles;

Deteriorates into a blunt steel knife,
Only good for stabbing outright;

The blood is pouring now,
everywhere it is;

And my vision is fading
as I start to fade from this;

A brief flash,
A clatter to the floor;

The knife is stuck,
In my soul forevermore.