Seven Suicides

I spy with my little eye, Something fleeting in the sky. A painful hook or a playful glance, slowly loosing the song and dance.

Once they flew, strong and high. Now temptation so sweet as lye. Blackness comes with such a fright, as we are blinded by the sight.

Sun sets on a dusky day, not longer wanting to play. Heavy hearts beat down on the ground, the banging beat hitting sans sound.

It drips red, hard and fast, each drop fading sights from our past. Sinking until low until no go, distant memories from long ago.

We dream the dream and dreamers keep. A secret so absurd no one can seek. Hard blown, a future beaten, such a feat, we see ourselves cheaten.

The reaper creeps, but no one he keeps with his pointy blade. The sun sets silent, no less violent that the lives we’ve lived.


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