Beyond My Reasons
Blood beyond this room.
Flows to scream.
Where I wake.
My wrists are bound to A blade.
I am veined to the twist.
Wild by nature.
I do not need to become.
I am a creature.
To be more human.
To be more kind.
Matured to be unknown.
In between the past and the present.
I have to die.
Just to feel alive.
Death has my back.
Free without the knife.
Blunt is the meaning.
Why, why has no reason.
Even in 200 odd seasons.
Inside my hate.
I am surrounded by my darkness.
Beyond my reasons.
Where I commit my treason.
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Comments about this poem (Beyond My Reasons by Unic Cjonr )
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Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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