Loud off-beat radical rhythms of pain
Tearing at my heart like a scourge drawing blood
from a slave.
Bridal bed empty of the love it once produced
Ceiling spins delirious patterns turn green
Ripped from my chest, she licked my heart clean
Hiding behind Hitler’s ghost on the train
As Wiesel tells of little boys dying in hope-filled
Terror of the small intense world she lives in.
Love not touching the edge of the knife
For fear of the pain at the depth of the soul
And the flow of hate behind glassed over eyes
Holding off screaming demons gasping for life.
How can it be known, the pain from deep within
When love is snatched away like a feather in the wind
And Gump slumps wordlessly on the bench
The pain of love leads to the death of the soul.
She smiles as she wanders away, blood dripping
Spirits hover above in wonder of the end
Her heart beats in radical rhythms of pain
I’m just a victim of innocence and death.
© 2007 Dayvid Graybill