Non Grata
You tell them, that a poet has lost his words.
You tell them, I never thought being numb could hurt.
If I was to lay back and gaze at the skies,
I would be embraced by the dirt.
For my soul no longer burns,
it no longer yearns to run, be free.
It desires no thing, like a tree
no longer holding, the Earth beneath.
For my heart turned hard, like a stone,
thrown into the ocean, I sink alone.
For love it is cruel,
love it is all but true.
as love comes, love is through
and I a poet who lost his truth.
So you tell them,
you whom hotter than the sun.
Tell them it is you that dried
the soul of the poet you shunned.
Tell them why my hands are dry,
and ink no longer leaves this mind.
Tell them now, before my words run out.
FIN.
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