Crimson

Born without a shell,
I was free then,
Unlike today...
Prisoner to my own will.

I am  a cocoon,
But never will the butterfly bloom.
Stone to you all I am,
But from inside its a tomb.
Where darkness is the only aura
And silence the only music that plays.

You hate me for what I've become,
Don’t you remember who put it on me?
And now a blade to undo it,
It’s not just the shell you hurt.


Slowly I bleed,
There is no redemption
And as you rejoice
The ground I lay turns crimson.

Waiting For The End

Trapped in flesh,
I scream from within..
Beating the walls
clawing for release.


I suffocate,
I long to evade,
To leave behind,
love and pain,
greed and shame.


For peace i pray
to my deaf Faith,
but it fails me
again and again.


I stand from the crowd
it reeks of hate
you only embrace
to push me to the edge.
And then preach compassion,
what do you know of love?


You want me clean,
blind to your stains.
An ignorant fool,
to put up with your facade.


I long for summer
in the autumn of despair.
amidst broken men
and ocean of pain,
my flame kindles
of being free.
Until then I breathe
waiting for the end.