A Thousand Deaths

Dream, dream, shall I wake up from this thing?

The waves of darkness crash upon my melancholy soul,

They wash and rinse all my exuberance but with gleamy eyes, I stare

At the bewitching sight of ceaseless tenebrosity that truly embraces me.

This trance is my comfort, why should I ever speak?

My heart of coal belongs to my house of sins,

I behold a million scenes inside that abyss of shadow,

Although every damn thing I see is illusory, even when my eyes aren’t closed.

I fervently believe that the tender hands of gloom are my places of ease giving me scars that bleed,

As they creep underneath my hollow skin, to my throat and strip off that coward voice who could never learn to scream!

Living in a place they called a dream, never for once

Did they ask if it was a nightmare for me, they thought

I was loved, with all the colours of the rainbow, bright and glittery!

Little did they realise, each night my spirit was crushed and crumbled to the seams.

The heavy hands of a dark soul pressed the soft cushion gently on my face, knocking out my last breath.

I whimpered in the cold, all I wanted was to scream for quietus,

But my voice was stripped off me, like my last piece of clothing by those hands I severely abhorred!

Those nimble fingertips of the effigy tap every corner of my skin, leaving marks of black and blue,

With each passing drop of blood, I fell into the arms of anguish and that is where I was gently caressed all night long.

The torment and obscurity were where I flourished, and I effaced the self that loved the warm sunshine.

But I inhaled the smoke to make room for the air, and I consumed the silence for the noise to be spared,

And one night, the moon shone way too bright so as to hurt my eyes, which were eased by nothing but dismal darkness,

That shine pushed my spirit of silence to shriek and force each last bit of vigour, out of me.

Then, the metal pierced through the mass and the blood soaked the carpet and made my hands stained!

As the rich red crept under my feet, the deep black slowly pulled out of my skin.

The place I called house was never a home, and my comfort in the pain

Was always the hoax that doomed the epitome of my soulful pulchritude.

Hence, I annihilated the blues and blacks even though it killed my heart and mind

But this time I felt not a thing for, since the moment I claimed my fate to be my nemesis,

I’ve died a thousand deaths...