Chamber Of Agony Poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

The dog of days roaming and eloping.
A courting to the next.
The complexity it takes for the head to rest.
Loves tranquility ignored.
Sleeping in an empty bed for another cold night.
Tossing and turning as the nightmarish dreams come true.
Hollow burns this everlasting tune.
Doors made translucent blue glass.
Looking right through.
A mixer turned on full blast.
The cake batter thrown across the kitchen walls.
Another mess to clean up.
But indeed this one is mine.
Turnip greens frying in a cast iron pan.
But at least this I have not forgot.
Even if the heart of it was left to rot.
Somethings are left better unsweeten.
A bickering melody.
I want it so bad, why it is I feel it is all I have never had?
Such a backwards notation.
Reminders of all the celebrations that never happened.
How times must I repeat the eternal bowing?
A chamber maid under the bed.
Look what I got myself into.
Fields of speckled snow, feeding this silent ego.
Static are the sounds in the very next room.
A constant gurgling, a constant choking.
Support for whom?
Reasons, and prayers yet to bloom.
The season isn't right.
No not yet.
No regrets.
Absolutely nothing I can do.
I broke through the defenses, yet I didn't.
A disproportionate gleam.
A smile that should be tears.
Who ever has a shoulder to cry on is doing just fine.
Just fine.
Wetting the whistle, and moving on.
The dangerous game has been played.
The hell has erupted and indeed I have payed.
Now I'm at the mercy of a calling of so much stalling.
Too afraid to ask for a different kind of mercy.
A rope to hang myself with.
See but the fall is just too short.
Not enough force behind the kicking of the tiny chair.
And now someone has got me down.
Stick me loony bin, yeah lets see how that works out.
Trapped in a vessel not of my own.
He is a clone, a clown wearing a little too much sheep skin.
Going critical, so understanding of those who are cynical.
Breathing fire of a different stage.
One where it comes of straight out of ones eyes.
Nothing surprises me.
I have danced with all kinds of demons.
None have the right to claim part of me.
Soul to own even as my shelter has been stolen.
Right from underneath my feet.
I must be slipping what treat.
But to brace for this fall would be just another sign of weakness.
Written on the backside of my behind.
Labled scum, a bum, totally disgusting.
More words to overcome.
No sorry could do it justice.
A mangy mutt out of luck.
But only if you could give him a name.
Then he might know of that love once again.
These are imitations of the pearls of forgiveness running across and down my wrist.
A cold trickling, a life slowly fading.
Disintegration, permanently melting with only a splash of water.
I can still hear the screaming sounds pleading with me to wake up.
What if I don't, what if what I want is the one thing I know I can never truly have.
Desperate pleas screaming can you hear me?
Can you even hear me?
Hear me?
Because so silent are my screams of agony.
Begging for someone too just forgive me.