Torment

The words are smoke, 

frozen around your ears,

whose echoes whisper curses of the underworld 

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Salem

Stare long enough into the night, 

Until you see the stars 

And when your eyes become familiar with their shapes, 

Watch them fade, 

Die, 

before the break of a new sun



Life is joy, 

and suffering 

Fabricated dreams drawn in the clouds

changing at the blow of the first wind 



It is easier to accept the night

Faceless,

Blameless,

than the day



Before a thousand eyes,

peering into your soul 

ripping your guts for the vultures 

When church is where we belonged

Before the priest set afire on the witch 



And in all,

my short life I have cherished 

Known a thousand men but one soul

With no regrets,

my ashes will be swept along Salem’s streets 

unlucky

some day you awake,

to a silent god

and you take a bath,

long and deep,

in a pool of flames

you feel your demons within,

crawling,

tearing through your boiling skin,

and the heavens,

can only seem so far away,

from the eye of the undying

the torment,

the dust on a forgotten painting,

to shade my heart black

and a silent god would awake,

to a cloud of my ashes

the essence of another soul

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