Hell has broken lose, scabs upon the noose
This is the lifestyle I do truly choose
I do not understand your denying hand
when you talk to me it seems your life is bland
Marks upon my arm, no means to do harm
this is the way I sound the final alarm
I cry out in tears for pain throughout my years
But this is a body that doesn’t have any ears
I’m blind to all your ways, my mind in disarray
It’s a sensation I feel it when I fade away
Don’t you understand that still your denying hand
will be overturned and one day banned
In flames I ease my pain I play a martyrs game
I die to live I live to die but nothing seems to have a name
Am I really insane like a drug for my pain
Do I self inject the suffering in which I finally did gain
Would you think more of me if I were one like you
who went to church and prayed to God and do what Jesus told me to
Could I renounce my birth upon this sacred earth
and be held still as the mortician measured what I was worth
What about my own flesh mutilated in thresh
tell me would I still feel the sensation and will it still be fresh
Would I still sit cry upon the midnight sky
would I still feel the urge telling me never to ask why
Will I still be alone my solitude has grown
My pain is a reflection of what I wanted you to have known
Do you now understand why every night I bleed
If only for a moment to get a taste of what I need
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem