Your Poetry Dot Com - Mortalitarian Child

Nailed to the cross and the roots of your family,
To you just chains that grow but thin with age.
Barbed and tightening bleeding and consuming,
The spectre reflected in a blade.

Six feet deep and going under,
Torn through lifes sickening blunder.
From the grave to the prison,
A temporary condition.

Lust for love its only fiction,
A one hour development addiction.
Photographs are forever,
Soul and flesh will sever.

Explosive emotions drugs and magic potions,
Flowering petals of hormones,
Black roses to fill the oceans,
Hiding the thorns ready to poison.

Freedom comes with bullets flying,
The suicidal soul will never stop crying.
Put away these childish things,
You already know what the knife brings.
Mortalitarian, not now.

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