Last Road To A Road That Was

Nothing!

Nada!

No way!

No How!

No, no, NO!

I cannot,

will not,

fall into this trap.

A is cool.

I is important.

O rounds things off,

and U is just U.

But that which cannot stand out,

that so hard to stay away from ...

this is mad.

Mad, I say, mad!

This world is mad!

Still, many things of good lurk.

Shadows hold many thoughts,

Light throws a twisting wish,

of who I am ...

but who am I?

My mind,

my mind,

damn, damn, damn this soul!

My mind is on lockdown.

Nothing in. Nothing Out.

Visions of a killing, a final harsh sigh,

brain about to succumb,

sands of this mad bliss

fall across the soul,

hiding, burying last thoughts.

Oh, what horror is,

but our dark-sanctum;

as skin slowly is lost from marrow.

Nobody around to say words,

to be profound,

in my last hitch of finality's air of want.

A whip lash stings,

drawing blood

from a bloody soul,

now frail and all but dry;

failing to vanquish final slashings,

as nothing is going to pull this skin from harm.

What man or woman,

would do such a thing?

No! I cannot allow this to

pour across my soul and burn it in constant.

Nothing!

Nada!

No way!

No How!

No! No! NO!

I cry that a thousand if not thousands.

I cannot allow you

to lock my soul in this prison.

I am no Gadsby.

What passion for this do you hold?

What is your hold on us all?

Your mind locks us to this thought,

and for that only,

no roads allow us unity,

only insanity.

As I put words forth,

my mind is crumbling,

my soul burnt black;

air circling around this body,

pulling ash to all parts of the world.