Birth Through Death
I cower in the corner, scared of what?
Scared of movement.
Scared of things that go bump in the night.
Scared of ghosts or goblins.
Scared of people that will kill you if you look at them wrong.
No, what scares me the most is something I can’t touch.
Something I can’t see.
Something I cant hear or smell.
It’s what hides in the dark that scares me.
In the darkness of my mind.
The things unseen to anyone but me.
The things that would make Hitler look like a saint.
I have an evil mind.
I have an evil soul.
When all is said and done there will be but one death.
In this sea of fire,
I am the only one burning in it’s depths.
In my world there was no mercy.
No mercy for the blind that can not see.
We rob them of their souls without being detected.
No mercy for the wounded.
We just take what we want and leave them to die.
In my world we are soldiers first, friends last.
We always take what we need
and leave only what we think will die in due time.
I wear a black heart.
The black heart of death.
I am the death messenger.
I am the madness and the chaos.
What I am scared of is what I am.
Who I have become.
Now as I lay here dying
I wonder what hell I will live through next.
Who and what I will become.
The next life I will pay for the sins
that I have created in this life.
God have mercy on this soul
for it is mine.
Tracy Burke
