Rhythim Of Empty Shells...Empty Hearts. - Poem by Bruce Vanizy
That slit throat,
That slit thought,
Where was i when i got caught?
Murder on warm blood, yo cold heart,
Yo cold blood, and cold alert,
Yo cold part n cold...depart.
Depart: Attach yo cold fusion,
With my warm protrusion,
For fruits, efforts that bore confusion,
A part of the lesser conclusion,
Of what 'it' was...
It was, made perfect,
Like an illusion,
And so, the...drift.
Drift: I am, on my feet,
Even when you fleet,
I promise, i will feel weak,
In time, it will skip,
To you, i speak,
My rest will never reach its peak,
Like blue wings, to reach its blue beak,
Not even blue eyes could sneak a simple peek,
What is felt, is bleak,
What is felt is...deep.
Deep: Our surrender,
I admit, i was a pretender,
Pretender and you were my contender,
Don't you remember?
Days would start, and fade black till December...
Years pass, this dark endeavor,
And so we surrender,
Our sorrow and story,
Of our...sorrow and sorry.
Sorry: That we are lonely,
Like empty hearts,
Like empty shells,
No shape in the deep alert from a simple gong of a simple church bell,
Could conjoin our hollow,
Even for the ones we follow,
We still feel hollow;
Even for the hearts we tried to borrow,
For our yesterday, today and tomorrow,
We still feel shallow...fear and gloom.
Gloom: In the room,
We strip our gloom to whom?
Hope for days to be cool,
Not cold like the pale white dress of the blue moon,
The bridegroom of the yellow sun's bloom...
And so i pray,
For u and i,
Be at peace to whom we follow,
Even though i am on my struggle;
Of my deep...sorrow,
For our deep sorrow,
I will survive...is my mirror voice,
I will be fine, will be the mirror voice.
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