scathe

A dark and naked sky of thoughts

beneath which,

another soul stretches its arms,

for a few more years of pain

look at him and find out,

a naked man and a weeping lady

screams harsh enough to break the glass,

which has once had her

it’s the whore which finds….

it’s the hope which binds….

psyche, a private whore,

burning alive every hour

to his rue,

the error cost him the game

get me high with another smile,

it’ll dwell in me for long

look out of the window,

kids are playing

open your eyes and see,

we are all insane

like a lost child with a scar,

easy to find

no pictures around,

it’s the game that reminds,

it’s the game that rewinds,

it’s the whore which finds,

it’s the hope which binds,

and it’s the scathe on this ugly mind….

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