Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

Liars Lairs, (Lyres Layers)

My concept bleeds out
From my skin to the air.
My pores open,
Bleeding out ideas
That get away with the rain
Storms that drench me and
Soak me, and inundate me.

It's almost drowning me.

I don't know my place in nature.
The color of my intrigue
Has been hunted to extinction.
Hunted by slackers looking
For any easy way out.

Inside sleeps a sickness
Yearning to set itself
Afire in my system.

Itching to release itself,
It crawls lazily about,
Vomiting its contagion in
My already ill presence,
Eating my concepts,
Spewing them into
Everyone else's atmosphere.
Deadliness, a feeling.
It's leaving me out of place,
Keeping me stalked.

And there is no sound,
No poetic lyre to key you in.

Except my tears
Falling into a mud puddle.
That small splash
The splattering of f--ked emotion.

Damn, it's getting on my jeans.
Damn, it's forging through my layers.

All this, happening in
My forest of doom.
I can do nothing.
Well…
All I can do is sleep in my
Lairs of bad ideas, and
Short-lived good intentions
That shrivels into dirty lies,
From even dirtier liars.

September 23, 2005
Suge


*I love this one just for existing*


Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Liars Lairs, (Lyres Layers)

378,382 Poems Read

Sponsors