this darkness in
my head
is a hated source
of inspiration

the constant
thunderous moan
of time wasted
marks my steps
deeper
into this valley

groping
with raw lips
and frayed pysche
dangling
over the jagged memories
of a murky
heart

a pale sun
still burns
while a death's head moon
follows me
into the crevices
of this spiritual cave
i crawl into

though some may say
the words are uplifting
i still feel
like i'm drowning
in muck
communing with maggots

my only wish
to hide in the underdark
of my mind
with my words
muttering over
my lyrical "precious"

deeper
and deeper
i crawl
into fissures and cracks
until i can no longer
breathe
and i wriggle
to get deeper still

here i will curl up
with words
until the pressure
mercifully
breaks me
and i am no more

and the pressure
will turn
my coal black heart
into a diamond