Rest In Peace, Year of Survival
Far away in a distant land
Where nobody knew my name
I carved out a throne of ice
And buried myself in the womb of winter
The Reaper held my hand
And the other held piles of pills
I shakily held onto hope
As she healed from her own attempt
A honeybee died weakly in my hand
While I stared at the setting sun
I buried it and my fears
In an unmarked grave
I awoke in the doctor's arms
My attempted death left me frail
The honeybee slept peacefully
As its bunkmate came to strangle me
As I burned my last memories of the Reaper
The sun shone on my back again
A wounded Devil Survivor on a March
Having a title made me feel stronger
The Reaper blotted out the sun
And her aura fooled me into believing
A bitter soda and rum
Embraced me and kept me warm
I embraced my role as a Hermit
As she flew away to quench her lust
The unforgiving summer sun drenched me in sweat
As I began to detox in the heat
I embraced my role as the second place prize
And offered my seed as greedily as she demanded it
And as I returned to my throne of ice
I found it completely melted
Apollo himself couldn't give me the strength
I needed to fight every challenger
I dropped my sword and scabbard
And left my throne room to the dogs
The universe was setting up
To repeat itself in a grand reboot
I doped up in any way I could
To ensure hitting the bottom didn't kill me
The Sun and Moon shone on my broken body
As the Reaper's last traces burnt in the light
Still alive but numb as could be
I began my Detox Reboot
Withdrawal symptoms wrack my sleeping frame
But I'm more alive than I've been in years
As snow clouds form over my broken castle
I prepare to craft a new throne
Copyright © Derek Chos | Year Posted 2017
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