Repression Poem by Anthony Verran

Does this life not fade away
Like a leave in a storm
Do these eyes of tyranny
And depression
Hold no ash to fall from it's socket
To burn everlasting happiness
That lie apon the floor
I've drempt the day of succession
Bare me no path
No sign
No glimpse of the sunlight
As I walk through this shadowy wasteland
You take thy hand
But lead me nowhere
You promise me hope
But somehow, your promises disappear
From you
And yet strike a hole in this red prism
That lay bound to this chest
Your hate
Your pity and your faith
Leave this poor boy to rest his bones
For sympathy lies on him like a nail
Pinned to the floorboard
For he needs it no more...