O My Soul Cries Out

How ignorant they truly be
To think an iron gate
Would ever suffice.
Their world
holds not the strength
to defeat my nature.

There is a melody
rising among the frozen people
growing to a still small cry.
It is the rhythmic beating
of a latin dance,
Powerful, intense,
finding power
as each day I survive.

The souls I feed on
never die.
Their blood has left behind
Crimson stains upon my face.
Screaming still, their humanity.

This mask I wear
it torments me,
Forever clenching, clawing at my flesh.
Never ceasing,
Never fully satisfied.

Tik Tok
cries the ebony clock.
Another has fallen.
Tik Tok
Wiped away by the swinging pendulum,
of that ebony clock.
deleted deleted
Dec 3, 2012