A Murderer's Lament
A Murderer's Lament
Would you sit beside me, while
I stitch a few verses
On the man who killed his dreams?
Can you smell the pungent blood,
Blotching the ink on the notebook?
That nauseating air hanging heavy-
With a tinge of copper and regret.
Or do you feel the blade-
Scraping it's serrated edges, along
The labyrinth of ice blue veins?
Tell me, dear, don't you hear his screams
Piercing through the night?
As he lay there writhing in agony,
Struggling like a kite caught in the hurricane.
Oh, if only I could whisper
Into your ears, like he did-
You would know that there are places
Worse than hell on Earth,
And none more suffocating than
A man's mind-
Burdened with expectations.