I'm a poet with broken wings,
an artist with scarred hands,
I'm the beast bound by chains,
a shadow afraid of the dark.
Blindfolded I touch the Demon's hand,
waste time- the only thing I do right.
Misdirected maybe, but sacredly invoked
to endlessly reach for the blazing flames.
Emotions dance down the spine
replaying carelessly shattered records,
amongst all humans I'm a stranger
with waved basket filled with confessions.
Obsessive games allure senses with cotton- smiles,
shimmering curtains and glittering lampions.
Wise butterfly slumbers above my pillow,
measuring the dreams, counting footsteps.
Creatures of the colossal ancient worlds came
to kill maturity behind waterfalls in my eyes,
There's no point in hiding, fading away-
their little hands will drown the last senses.
Charisma prances collided with hypnotic swords,
gems of my past are starting to stifle;
I swore that I'll look back, but I'm so tired
of all those nights crowned with insomnia.
I'm a poet with broken wings,
an artist with scarred hands,
I'm the beast bound by chains,
a shadow afraid of the dark,
just a face without a name...
Angel of Darkness
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/face-without-a-name/
