Fantoms

I don’t want to write –

Of pure rage
Of love
And hate
And under shame

I want to forget -the cry out
The battle pains
But my past
it Shows how the monsters rained

From silver lined clouds
Made of cold steal
The thunder heads
of gun powder made real
The molten streets
rain brimstone pearls
As my mind finds cliffs
For my thoughts to be hurtled
The loves long gone,
There they still hang on
No mater how wrong

Like barbs
That scar
They dig in deep
And carry on
Making my insanity weep

It’s only utter peace that I seek
Freedom from the fantoms
That sin… So deep

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