The Terminal
The Terminal
By Kevin Robey
Janaury 1, 2014
Parade my designs behind closed window blinds
With misplaced disgrace displayed across my face
Their missing spines and cricket legs will grind
Symphonies lay to waste the last of my grace
Counting beats to bittersweet songs I play
Smile sweetly this disease slowly killing me
Maybe my feet will carry me through the fray
Before these scars run too deep in my memories
Self-hate away the day with everything I say
Bite my tongue and smile if only for awhile
Silly games delay the death in store today
Never-ending miles where footsteps cannot smile
The demons come again as angels make believe
Abandoned in cascades of countless razor blades
Breathing in the sin with terrors that I conceive
Lies displayed like hand grenades in demons’ serenades
Standing in the wind that penetrates my skin
Eyes glazing over the path of my salvation
Wondering if I still have the strength within
To weather roads ahead where skies are caving in
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