They mean to steal
The fire inside my soul
The pain inside me
Bites, it is so cold
The rains are not forgiving
Unforgiving
A January thaw warms nothing
Clouds burst, thunder crashes
Showering down ice
Cloaking my wings
With frozen pain
I’ll never fly
My life is ashes
Going insane
The asylum’s choir
Will sing
No second chances
When
Life is not sacred
No truth, no beliefs
No redemption
Scarlet colors
Upon
An empty canvas
But now
We are cast
As members
Of the final mass
No ransom
No promises granted
Cursed existence
Failing
Beneath the weight
Of the soul stained
Crimson covered glass
Broken
Unspoken
Missing
“And, drunk with my own madness, I
shouted at him furiously,
"Make life beautiful! Make life beautiful!”
Charles Baudelaire
