Poemhead

A Rapid Burning Desire for an End to Pain

Dig yourself a hole to bury all you know

Cause were all made to die

What’s the sense in walking straight?

When you can sit and just wait

Little tragedies haunting me

Little tragedies haunting me

Why can’t they all just die?

I want them all to die

Is it a miracle when they all survive?

It’s a mystery, this misery

That spends its time haunting me

This day, this night, shattered harmony

Screams day dreams

Until the sun turns off its light

What’s a gun for but war?

What’s a gun for but war?

Why does the head shake?

When the earth quakes

Why does the mountain form?

What are the reasons?

For the seasons

And why does it matter now

The blood moon

Has come to soon

And the rivers are running dry

I’m just the mountain

I’m just the burning sky

It doesn’t end

No it never ends

Even if the world

Were to stop mid spin

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