PSYCHOPATH 2: THE HUNTED

By Caleb   

It's dark coat of nothing blows in a wind of laughter
Understood by no one except me
Far away
It's trapped inside a demon cage of freedom
that shows only I have to save it's day
The real value of it is measured by counting toes
The fingers will point in the direction there is to go
The aroma of it's fragrant body isn't followed
but remembered
And the want to touch it is more than a pile of debris
and it's unburned embers
I need it not I sigh silently
to make love inside my mind
I need it not I sigh over again to
stand next to my bedside
It's breath I can't inhale in the eyesight of Autumn—
I just want to see—
Promises have not been made to keep
And so that is how they will be
Oh it's heavy breath I can't inhale—

It's life inside of me
And so I sigh not to the sky with my head held high
I keep it quiet
And allow my time to past it by

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