Looking up from where I’ve fallen
a king of worms I have become in this hole I hide
Once a master, now a slave
from the digger to the grave
I’ve been dropped inside
there is no street of gold
no angels honor me
there are no maidens left untouched
awaiting me
I do not care to taste
this dust I cannot breathe
all I find here is complete obscurity
Take this number to the jailor
let him come with blade in hand
and he’ll have his trun
Light the candle, spread the ashes
plant my bomb among the masses
so they might learn
The sorrow I have sewn
will not insure my fame
the flesh that I have torn
in history will not write my name
I see now folly in my dogma
that blood means sanctity
it’s all back on me now
and draped in cold deceit
Poetry
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