Poetry Is the Remedy

i life Reflections in the mirror increase resentment. Tarnished heart pursues vengeful contentment Disillusioned, you hide in fictitious make believe, possessed by demons who purblind and deceive. In your bogus twisted fabricated state of mind, answers to your questions you shall never find. Your fraudulent mask poses, deceptively concocted, mocking with a grim masquerade you have adopted. ii death As your heart blackens with the absence of light, Lucifer summons you closer, to his sheer delight. Loved ones cannot save you from hell's burning heat, there's nothing behind you but shadows of deceit. Now that your toxic nature has begun to expire, you can no longer suck energy like a vampire. Nobody cares to listen to your forged confession. There is only joy in the absence of your aggression. iii after life Pain like hungry howling wolves irritates skin deep. After all this time, why do you sabotage my sleep? Am I cursed that I see your silhouette in my dreams, I'm struggling to ignore your torrid smouldering screams. Why continue to haunt me like a vicious viper? Firing shells of cyanide like a silent sniper. iv remedy for change I'm fortunate that my quill has become my shield, for every wound, poetry is my remedy to be healed. My ink is my saviour, bursting through my vein, a catharsis for peace, as from hate I abstain.