The Extremity of Despair

Heart, what's wrong?

Heart, what’s wrong?

Heart, what’s wrong?
The dream goes pitch black
Dark as a pool of cold blood
Where I’m drowned
Unreservedly omitted
Congeal my soul
Nothingness is too close
vivid as nails through Jesus’ palms
my spirit bewildered
Arduous with an old curse
Him and I contradictory
Our masks are too delicate
My heavy face
His happy face
akin a smile of a wound mark
Curved on slit throat
No more rain of pain
No more waiting
No more him
No more…
Heart, what’s wrong?

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