its is so dark here <br />in my dungeon black <br />were no one can find <br />my peace of mind ~ <br />and words can not <br />convey the hell <br />that I'm in~ <br /> <br />i sing not of the living <br />or of the enslaved dammed <br />but of the spilled blood of the many <br />that soaks into the ground <br />and runs through the rock <br />and down though the lakes <br />were blood turns clear <br />and only the unknowing blind drink~ <br /> <br />and i would <br />give all to him <br />he who needs not of me <br />but give only warning <br />of what could be~ <br />and yet i would stand unclothed <br />and necked at his feet~ <br /> <br />and can you not feel the blade <br />it presses at our very throats <br />slicing at our soft soul <br />cheating our new born skins'~ <br /> <br />and need to be loved <br />and born again~<br /><br />Verlecia fields<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cheated-soul-of-madness/
