Ticking Clock
Won’t show
Won’t show
My pale face
To no shallow
Mirror.
Shan’t I live
With the mourning
Of solitude
And my desperate attempt
For clarity?
Could I choose
A path?
A safe one,
Please,
Good goddess,
Show me
A safe path
Upon which I can lay
My wings
And rest;
Disarm them
From my bleeding back
And jump into salvation
Without no further guilt,
Without feeling holy
And yet human.
Can I feel exhausted
Already?
These cigarettes
Won’t kill myself
Alone.
For dead I am
Since my birth,
For death has laid
His wings
Before
I had the chance
To do as such
Myself.
Should I
Keep on
Flying?