Poem: Last Rites
Four walls of solitude
I last out my days
As a means to an end
Unworthy of praise
When I was a child, nobody came
To save me from evil, to save me from pain
Now I am older, it’s all just the same
No one is coming, as I go insane
Lowest of low
Scum of the earth
I scream in my sleep
Bleeding self worth
Anguish, humility, morbid despair,
Condemnation and heartache
Surrounded by fear
The most ultimate rapture
The very last option
To my heart’s attack
The wind will still blow without me
And the sun will still shine
Still there’ll be laughter, and still there’ll be wine
Poets will write, there will be a new song
All these things will still happen
Long after I’m gone
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