Oh refuse
Oh sorrow, my comfort in the cold times and dark days, I refuse to let go of your cold hug. I refuse to let go of your limp hand and your sagging flesh. Refuse to leave, oh refuse. I love the silver; not the glow of the light but that of the shining mist. I love the dew, not out of the flowers but the one in my eyes, splashing down on the cold, hard ground. What a comfortable feel when the grip tightens around my neck, what a comfortable feeling when the force of the water crushes my chest. Oh beautiful clouds of sorrow, let your fumes block my nostrils and lungs. Let them bind my hands and legs till I drown. I will stand with you and by you, caterpillar, till you become a butterfly. I will stand with you, little wave till you make a tsunami. I will guard you, little breeze till you become a whirlwind. I am happy on my path, this path crawling with snakes, scorpions and spiders, free of bees and dead of flowers, free of sparrows and hummingbirds, yet full of vultures and ravens. It is the road of death, devoid of life. It is the road of comfort, the road of sorrow. You coaxed me onto the road, that lonely road to nowhere. I fell from glory and sank into grief. Oh refuse to let me leave. Add a chain and a fetter. Add a muzzle and a rope. Take me captive and throw away the key. It is dawn somewhere but my sun refuses to rise. Oh refuse, almighty darkness. Suffocate me in your glow and allow me to partake of nightmares and lucid dreams. Feed me cups of sorrow and allow me to drink from the frosty chalice of hopelessness. Refuse to take my hand, oh refuse. Refuse to submit to my call of slavery and to my beckoning you to my house. Run away, oh refuse to meet my gaze and do not listen to my breath. Break free of my cuddle and run into the darkness where you belong, oh beating heart. Retreat and save yourself from the rising sun. Pick the thorns and neglect the roses. Pick the bones and ignore the flesh. Stop not to take a breath but run along and bang against the wall, that fence you have built to keep others out. That other side that you have saved for yourself, where your wounds fester as you swim in the pus of the scars you drew on yourself. Close the door and jump on your bed of gnats and vampire bats and dance as they suck you dry. Make my bed, oh lonely heart. Fill the straw with chaff and ants. Fill my headrest with stones and sticks. Fill my gourd with bitter water then hand it to me when I crave a drink. Refuse me comfort, deny me peace. I want to wallow in your sweet misery. I want to be part and parcel of the baggage. I want in, I want a part in the reap of the night, the terror of the angry nightmares. Refuse to leave, oh shadows of the night. Comfort me, oh cold fingers of sorrow. Let me feel your fingers on the nape of my neck and the cold touch of your terror in my heart, and then I shall go to sleep happy, that I am not alone. Refuse to leave, guest of the night, oh refuse.
Oh sorrow, my comfort in the cold times and dark days, I refuse to let go of your cold hug. I refuse to let go of your limp hand and your sagging flesh. Refuse to leave, oh refuse. I love the silver; not the glow of the light but that of the shining mist. I love the dew, not out of the flowers but the one in my eyes, splashing down on the cold, hard ground. What a comfortable feel when the grip tightens around my neck, what a comfortable feeling when the force of the water crushes my chest. Oh beautiful clouds of sorrow, let your fumes block my nostrils and lungs. Let them bind my hands and legs till I drown. I will stand with you and by you, caterpillar, till you become a butterfly. I will stand with you, little wave till you make a tsunami. I will guard you, little breeze till you become a whirlwind. I am happy on my path, this path crawling with snakes, scorpions and spiders, free of bees and dead of flowers, free of sparrows and hummingbirds, yet full of vultures and ravens. It is the road of death, devoid of life. It is the road of comfort, the road of sorrow. You coaxed me onto the road, that lonely road to nowhere. I fell from glory and sank into grief. Oh refuse to let me leave. Add a chain and a fetter. Add a muzzle and a rope. Take me captive and throw away the key. It is dawn somewhere but my sun refuses to rise. Oh refuse, almighty darkness. Suffocate me in your glow and allow me to partake of nightmares and lucid dreams. Feed me cups of sorrow and allow me to drink from the frosty chalice of hopelessness. Refuse to take my hand, oh refuse. Refuse to submit to my call of slavery and to my beckoning you to my house. Run away, oh refuse to meet my gaze and do not listen to my breath. Break free of my cuddle and run into the darkness where you belong, oh beating heart. Retreat and save yourself from the rising sun. Pick the thorns and neglect the roses. Pick the bones and ignore the flesh. Stop not to take a breath but run along and bang against the wall, that fence you have built to keep others out. That other side that you have saved for yourself, where your wounds fester as you swim in the pus of the scars you drew on yourself. Close the door and jump on your bed of gnats and vampire bats and dance as they suck you dry. Make my bed, oh lonely heart. Fill the straw with chaff and ants. Fill my headrest with stones and sticks. Fill my gourd with bitter water then hand it to me when I crave a drink. Refuse me comfort, deny me peace. I want to wallow in your sweet misery. I want to be part and parcel of the baggage. I want in, I want a part in the reap of the night, the terror of the angry nightmares. Refuse to leave, oh shadows of the night. Comfort me, oh cold fingers of sorrow. Let me feel your fingers on the nape of my neck and the cold touch of your terror in my heart, and then I shall go to sleep happy, that I am not alone. Refuse to leave, guest of the night, oh refuse.
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