The Lich

As the rain trickles down the cracks of my stained oak casket And it stains the fabric of my tattered shirt with the crimson paint they placed upon my lips The shifting of dirt can be heard in my worm infested ears As the skin on my thighs is being eaten away from the wood beatles My spirit hovers above this nightmarish scene Broken tombstone and twisted roses cover my name Once spoken from your tongue, now just a whisper in the wind Can you even remember the words that dripped from my trauma fueled pens Or have they turned to ash like my sins that were thrown into the pyre Choking on putrid soot as you lowered haphazard memories into the barren ground Darkness can be so blinding, don't you see now All those insomniac nights and breathless days Gripped by panic attacks and mind numbing depression I screamed, pleaded, wept for longing Just to be understood, as I got on my cracking knees Praying with bloodshot eyes for an ounce of peace I can't breathe, lungs swelling, tears cascading likes waterfalls down my sunken face But you refused to see the girl breaking inside this woman, invisible scars ripping open A spiritual bloodletting Now the final chapter can not be undone as the bell no longer tolls for a lost soul among the deaf.