Sins of Ancestry

Burning in black flames of eternal woes, my heart yearns to find answers it's needing. Skin begins to wilt like a winter rose, bruised from deep wounds of internal bleeding. Haunted by sad soul's whimpering mourning, shards of hope crack like dire demolitions. Stumbling and crumbling without a warning. An endless demotion of emotions. Hail of tears plunder on marble tombstones. I question the deceased for explanations, but beneath the earth they have become bones. I turn to the skies to express frustrations. Taking back my pain, so pardon my pleas, as I raze the roots of my ancestry.