Once I went to sleep and died...then awoke on the very edge of the earth,
It took me a few moments to realize...I reached the'other side and'traversed,
From dead 2 live'I arrived with a thirst,
An'urge to unveil and taste the frail'fragmented hurt,
Ruby'red it slips and sheds across the'dead through'a single verse,
As'if it were coerced or called..passionate whispers'hiss out my name,
I shut my eyes and attempt 2 evovle...I cast out and picture the pain,
Until fully obtained in'the frames of my eyes,
Vision blurred with warmth and raw nerve...that forms and flows'out whenever i cry,
My soul controlled, concentrated and liquefied,
Ill let it pour from my very core and into the dirt,
With god as my witness..ill claw out the sickness and make'it drip with'rich hurt,
On the very edge of the earth...
If death wasn't merely an illusion
And life were nothing more than a series of dreary scenes,
Id wander the stars and id walk in seclusion
So that my lover (who is the moon) and I
Could pour out our hearts and dream,
We'd talk and lucubrate delusion
In lucid great diffusions and silver streams,
If blood is crimson red..
And pain is black and blue,
What color then is the grave? Is it faded stone and grey?
Or some sullen shade..
like a midnight residue