I woke up and the sun was shining
down on my head. It burned,
a great regret that settled like stones in water,
too numerous to breathe, too heavy to struggle.
I'm falling down, deep into the abyss.
People with smiling faces are there.
The kindly ones said, to drink to the future.
Speak not of the past, or it buries you deeper,
in its grave.
Astonishing how I never knew.
Dark is the heart that has naught but its work
to help keep it in beat with the rhythm
of life, when in spite of the shadow of
Damocles' scythe, lest the body be hurt
can never slow or shirk
My mind is the iblis that separates the worlds,
My words are a sword that will shatter beliefs.
My thoughts are the reaper raising His grim scythe
My future the victim, the present my prize.
