Despite my dry eyes
chains of past names
weigh my body down with strains.
I couldn’t rehabilitate
For their lost words ache
And quake my soul into a hilarious joke.
Destitute is in front of me
indignation is the only thing I see.
Mountains and valleys
spread far and wide.
Jelly heat vibes
arouse from their decayed times.
Lines of pathetic dust
laid waste in my trunk
which use to carry treasures
taken away by friendly leisure.
I need a cure.
Tear away this tiresome curse
from my dying body,
and drive sharp bloody needles in to my veins.
Pump me with His remedy
before I lose my mind;
being spoon feed with degrading lies.
It shatter myself worth into mines
exploding by the tick of the tock
Bamboozle flops as my rain drops
But dryness is all I feel.
A sea of sand like the Sahara.