When the End is not Near Enough

Chest holds grenades pulled of their pin

Daddooms counting down those ticks from within

Strokes falling short of a meaningful measure

Beats that retreat, as aching’s trump pleasure

Oh how chambers chime in a pitch out of tune

Rhythms depicting a heart now in ruin

Daddooms void of lust, rings stripped of luck

A life that’s no must, screams a “who gives a fuck”

Oh… but action takes motive, motive takes might

Who’s the lacer of gloves for living this fight?

The pins now been pulled, but whether to throw

Or wait clasping down for more souls than your own

The fight isn’t over, life’s in your hands

Grenades can be tossed to better-laid plans

Throw at the daemons poisoning mind

Let pins release pain, without blood on the line

Life isn’t over when thoughts muffle dreams

Life only halts when silencing screams

When a heart stops its course, short of fulfilled

When minds current racings are finally stilled

When that trigger is pointing to the one in the frame

When the mirrored reflection ends its own game

What is the fuel for pulling life’s pin?

Don’t rely on the mind that scolds what’s within

A stranger, a friend, a soul in the light

Is the lacer of gloves for winning this fight

Hearts soften voices poisoning minds

Rekindling hopes that alone you can’t find

Echo’s in mirror should be spied by another

Sounded in tongue, not by daemons you suffer

Put down the knife that’s intended to pierce

Cut down that noose that will cut short your years

Turn from the ledge that tows now caress

Discard the drugs you intend to ingest

Is your hearse laying chosen? Is the grave trumping life?

Is your hand on the trigger while your rolling deaths dice?

Please reconsider the bed you have made

Rest tomb bound plans covertly laid

I’ll lend you my mind to offload your daemon

My heart can fill yours, life’s not in completion

Image, Hand By Gilead
Image, Hand By Gilead
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6 thoughts on “When the End is not Near Enough

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