Broken Skin
Author: Sax


Burning Pain Criss cross my arm,
I must go clean these brushes of my blood.

How is this body such a frail but crittical spiritual vessel?
Can this vessel bleed an ocean for me?

Is this my Angel of life or is it my Angel of self destruction?
A rain of life force all around,
soaking all on the ground,
the rain brought by the cutting of Angelic throats.

Now as a welcomed darkness falls,
the night shall unfold it's ebon wings,
it's purpose to wrap the world in it's dark and eternal embrace.

All I can see is the blood on my hands,
all I can feel is the tears on my face.

All my hate will not be bound by your constant preaching.

I know I'm gona do this again,
I know I'm gona do this again,
despite the pain,
despite it's meaning,
I'm gona do this all again.
God.... This is so exhilerating.


Comments on this poem/writing:

Mental () -- Saturday, July 27 2002, 02:58 am

Broken Skin

it brings back memories of
that moment the dark ones i like to seek.
Name:                                           Remember Me

Comment Title:

Comment / Ammendment:

Please complete the recaptcha below for spam prevention:

Click here to read other Poems by Sax


Poetic Dreams Other's Poetic Dreams Submit a Poem New This Week Forum Home

Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack

COPYRIGHT NOTICE: All Rights Reserved.   No part of this website, including all pictures and written words,  may be reproduced or copied in any manner from this website without  permission of the original author of the work.  All poetry and pictures herein remain the sole property of the original author and/or copyright owner.  All poetry on this website has been submitted by the original author of the work. To contact any author of the work please e-mail:  so the proper person may be notified.