Primeval State

In my primeval state, I bleed black

It seeps from my pores and stains my tracks

Burning like volcanic blood below my skin

I want to cry, but I know it is I who bathed in the sin

If my soul could walk alone, it would be but a silhouette

Vaporous and weak, caught in this natural net

Longing for the light, the warmth, and redemption

Fighting this hellish schizophrenic conviction

My Silhouette steps forward in the luminated path

Then is pulled back again by my rebellious wrath

Pushing and shoving my way through hell

Bleeding black down my hardened shell

How long before I feel the flames as they lick?

I feel my conscious grow impatient with every agonizing tick

"Foolish little child" it whispers to me

And it is then I uncover my eyes to see

This blood I bleed black seeps from my thoughts

My tears come, better late than naught

The pores finally clot and I feel new breath

Begin again my soul, defeat your inner death

Forsake this dear friend you call apathy

She is seductive but you will be worthy

Step into the light, it’s no longer a question

You will stop your soul's downward progression

You know who you are and so simply you say

Who am I? And remember it every day

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My community

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