The Damning Of My Poet Soul

195

Don't think about it,
Just be more,
Let the energy ring out,
And echo off the tunnels and the mountains,
Don't think about it,
And let the inside devour,
What I keep seeing.
Don't think about it,
And let the vision change,
Don't you see it too,
How much I have changed.
An innocent little girl,
Long dark hair,
Is almost all gone,
Not a single one sees it's the same,
And I see the pawn in the game.
Oh my has it changed.
The blades replaced with arrows,
The cries of pain transferred to that of anger and war,
The pink changed out for the blue,
I've always wanted it.
Always like it better.
Looking in the mirror,
And seeing a tall young man,
That carries weapons,
With a range that reaches more than just me.
Don't you want to dare try and push me,
Because you wouldn't be the first,
To fall down,
And cave into the pointed sticks of my bow,
Hope you made it this far,
And realize that I never allow me to be so weak,
Not again can I stay up all night,
I cry out in this blood ridden rage that hides my pain.
Carving into my own skin I do no more,
Left the blades on the ground,
And set them down so willingly,
For another weapon, I can actually use,
To cut the dead from the tree,
With a shocking accuracy,
The arrows drop the limbs,
Dead weight.
I keep on aiming,
Hoping that I won't shoot the whole tree down,
The man that aims only because he is angry,
Is no man at all.
And can't you,
Dearest I have always wanted to put the weapons down,
Meet you in the peace in my heart,
But I don't wanna cry out,
In this rage of words that wanna come out of my mouth.