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Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.
More in The Poetry of Rygar
abandoned beneath the leaves
Tortured, tormented and in pain,
My capacity to love supersedes all I do,
My heart has been buried under the compost.
Burned, chastised and forgotten,
Healing with time is foreign to me,
I’m lost among the stinging leaves and thorns.
Abused, beaten and left to rot,
I satiate some sick desire to be rejected,
Decaying vegetation mirrors my state of mind.
Torn, ripped away from what I hold dear,
Seems everything I touch turns to ash…
This heap that consumes my fire is now my home.