Demon

I realize tonight, that so infectious I can be
Yet still I find in some sense, I lack the capacity
To pull my fingers from the ground, already torn and gone
My flesh is slowly suffering, too soon it will be gone.
Caught up in this twisting, apocalyptic landslide,
I let the rain flow down a layer of gently devastated stone
Each rolling, hypnotic wave approaches, retreats.
The crying sand whispering of the true meaning of "alone".


Dislocated shoulders moan to a harsh rope embrace
As my body and mind battle for supremacy, split into
Two separate entity's, snarling and pleading all at once
While side faces beg and beat on nailed windows.
I built this appalling effigy of myself,
A self sufficient funeral pyre, fed by internal desire
I cannot be alive, you forced suicide down my throat
And then question me when I refuse to smile.


My spine is as a broadcasting tower, criss/crossed and twisted
Sending out beacons to alluring enemies who coax knives
Into flesh that is more than receptive, let some more blood out
Each drop spawning a new emerging survivor.
I am the Demon in that styled shot.
My touch leading way to mephitic loss and rot.
The downfalls of mankind forced onto a frame,
That lost it's compassion as if in a game.