My English Verbal Poetry: Under the Wings of the Raven: 16. My Last Poem
This is my last poem,
A swan song of only black notes,
As always, I’m writing with poisonous thorns
And my dark, dark blood,
Now more than ever with the end so near.
There is no heaven, only a dooming hell,
Filled with the obligatory devils and demons,
Burning flames, with a consuming fire,
Eating away the leftovers of hope in me.
I’m crying too late the greedy tears of repentance,
Upon the road of my easy intentions,
I’m crying my words on a whirlpool of wind,
A grandiloquent cacophony of a Babel-like confusion.
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Keep up the good work!