Hostile

Frantic was my mind as darkness then ensued,

panic in my heart when my universe unglued,

I thought silence would abide,

’twas a place I couldn’t hide,

and the pitch was but a moment,

wasn’t rich and couldn’t foment,

now the noise was just the same,

and my voice was truly lame,

I had given up my shell,

I had loaned it unto hell,

and I was not quite myself,

as I was sitting on the shelf,

nor was I as deep,

when I came back from that sleep,

and these were not my hands,

holding, sifting shifting sands,

and she was screaming out for help,

cradling this crimson welp,

he was shaking and afraid,

in the bed that he had made,

and the tears were flowing thick,

for a fool that was too sick,

and shock of newborn life,

held a demon like a knife,

then it cast him through a wall,

cause it wanted him to fall,

there it threw him to the ground,

with a crumpled thudding sound,

and he tried to eat the rocks,

in his mind he broke the locks,

but his faith it was in vane,

for he wasn’t even sane,

and he told them he was God,

he was nothing more than sod,

when it failed to kill him yet,

through the blood that it had let,

it lept into the air,

to find another who would dare,

then I woke up in a bag,

and they washed me with a rag,

in this new suspended rage,

I was bought a splendid cage,

as I sat upon the gurney,

I began a brand new journey,

then was given one more chance,

to live a life alike a dance.

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