Steel myself, for the worst,
still I know that it will hurt.
My heart is already broken,
From the words that lie unspoken.
Stumbling through a freezing blizzard,
barren lands frozen and withered,
hoping I will be delivered,
as I trudge so weak and shivered.
Arctic desert, hear its chime,
stretching till the dawn of time,
just a sliver of the rind,
of which lies inside my mind.
Sheath my heart, metallic ice,
blanket it, much more than thrice,
numbness can, feel mighty nice,
when it is, your own device.
Force myself, to just not care,
about what will, or will not bear,
fruit praiseworthy, of its share.
Without trees, the orchard's bare.
Iron, copper, in my blood,
I can taste it, on my tongue,
I am golem, I am mud,
Irony, of atoms strung.
Ever looming constant battle,
tenuous defense from babble,
tempestuously tinny rattle,
tempest tossed, I try to grapple
with the thoughts within my head,
that so mal ig nan tly sperad.
"Think of other things instead"?
I TRY! But all I hear is DREAD!
Smoke another cigarette,
yoke up with some more regret,
frantically fight not to fret,
and lose, as I break out in sweat.
So I'll mire here alone,
whispering my haunting tone,
blowing on with dreary drone,
only reaping what I've sown.
