Tell Me Now, What Do You Make Of It? Poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

Provisions given.
A knife, and a life.
A key and a open door.
A keyboard and a empty screen.
Come on get mean, get impossible.
Controlling these demons inside of me.
Just making me wanting to pull my hair and scream.
Come on senseless brutality, show me your many faces, and many places.
Come on violent outburst don't stop now, it was just getting good.
Entertainment of the week, please keep feeding me.
A mind to lust is one that shall turn to dust.
The emptiness still rattles.
The snake bite eats the skin.
Acid coming over the brim.
Burning everything down to its very core.
And the chalk hits the board, and marks of one more.
Pretty little faces keeping score.
Brain matter has already been destroyed.
Its game over in a dellusional reality.
How do explain what lies on the other side of the disintegration of a plane.
Five steel bars and a tiny window.
Being beat by a fluffed up pillow.
An erie clowns laughter behind the scenes.
A click, click in the rhythm of one, two, three.
Then smoke fills, and chokes.
It's a walking ghost.
It's a burnt fried crispy.
And now its toast.
Delicious are the thoughts up catching that spinning golden frisby.
Forgive me for I think I might just being getting dizzy.
Give me something to grab.
Let me take a seat and start to gab.
For nothing is so important, so signifant, that I don't have time to get my bearings and see where I'm next heading.
The time is now, and as we stand still everything around us still moves.
Nail driven into my shoes.
Sitting in a riding car caboose.
Down the tracks I go watching the passing by snow.
It's march again, and there is something on inside I'm feeling.
The drive is once again alive.
A boiled egg in which the shell hasn't been picked completely clean.
Extra layers, alway extra layers.
The deeper we go, the less we find.
But god knows I always have to try.
This is one promise I will keep till the day I die.