Sad eyes one evening
lead to nine sleeping pills
which she took throughout the night,
each taking her to a new layer of Dante's hell.
Her favorite setting
was to run amongst the suicide trees,
blood drips from the young birch
and the re-birth
of the hierarchy of sins
is etched into the stone
of the collective conscious,
the vultures circle,
the martyr hangs.
Mad dogs reign,
the earth implodes under the pressure
of the storm a-coming
in the corners of the world in which
there is only darkess,
perpetual twilight.
Let them suffer,
the magistrate pronounces
over the loud speaker
and goes back to his
flask of bourbon
which he tells his wife
is just water and lemon juice.
Everyone is lying to you.
Wave your flag,
drink your poison,
thrust the knife in deeper inside of me,
twist it around
and make me wait.
I smirk and let you
take my life,
smile the Cheshire grin.
Give me energy
that sticks in my throat,
violence seen through
the needle's eye.
I will only ask you once.
Are you there?
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