A Tortured Death Will Set You Free

Withering decay worth at least one little kiss,
Thrown from the stars into an abyss,
Quickly run through the trees and find your own bliss.

Stolen from our world his heart is amiss,
The dove fly’s over like a lovers final hit,
Pushed deeper and deeper until it’s under the skin.

This lonely vein accepts the wanting mud,
Soaked by the heart,
Destroyed by the love.

Sold it all for revenge that was just bittersweet,
Never got half of what I was meant to according to fate,
I’ve always slit my wrists but this time I do it for her kiss.

The executioner has to mutilate,
Every single piece of flesh that remains,
This laughter will never subside.

Fatalities mend the final solution,
Savage display of murder and mayhem,
Hideous forms of human death.

Ian Robert Potapoff