Thursday, August 21, 2014

Mother and Child

There is this little demon
Clinging to my back
His grey flesh fused to mine.
He whispers in my ears
A lullaby of my fears
And gnaws on my spine.

I am his mother he says
That I have nourished him
In the womb of my gloom.
That I have held him close
Each haunted night
In the abandon of my room.

I have nursed him with tears
He was cradled in my fears
I have taught him how to hold
I have taught him how to climb
I have fed him my despair
Till my nerves went cold.

Can you now cut him away
Without bleeding me to death?
His venom fills my heart.
My blood burns in his veins.
Without ceasing my breath,
Can you pull us both apart?










4 comments:

  1. ...a little love - just a little love can change it all...
    ~Bryan Adams

    :-)


    Cheers,
    Blasphemous Aesthete

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    Replies
    1. Maybe it can..but I doubt if that love is in my destiny.. :)

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  2. This is beautifully morbid. I associate with your despair. Some of us have demons that have become integral parts of our anatomy. I don't know the solution but I love the way you put across the problem.
    - The wanderer

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you Sumeet. I am glad you found some truth in my words.. :)

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