Blue Black

Blue Black

I'm sick and tired of being the golden boy
I've resigned myself to being his favorite toy
All I want is to endulge in sin's poisonous joy
The battle within now is over, my soul was Troj

My will is battered and bruised from every last decision
Each choice I make cutting the string without vision
No sight of the future, looking at the past with precision
Not caring that my life could soon be a final revision

A mighty oak that should be a family tree
Has wilted and withered, soured into poison ivy
And just to feel companionship is coming now with a fee
As I look to be merely held, waiting anxiously, yet nakedly

Calculating my wasted life to best pray for hope
Degraded and confused, brooding over the fact that I mope
Trying my damnedest not to give it over to the rope
Fashioning my last savings on a cheap necklace of taupe

Hanging on my last word passed from bluing lips
Watching with fixed stare on my last breaths' trips
A final warmth succumbing to a cold air's whips
Stinging sensations from all around that make their nips

Soon now, this blue will turn to a conglomerate of black
Deaf ears sealed away by the pounding of one last tack
And the lesser creatures will feast of fate's lowest pact
The one made with dancing scissors to a man of moral lack

Poet Darká