Expiry Date

 

From within the black

under the stairways

like a Pheonix

I had risen

when the world broke

I made myself!

I re-created

I am my Mother

And my mother lost her child

To you, 

To the people,

To the fucking gods,

I was there, when they needed a whore.

I was there when they needed a poem.

But its over.

The poem is at its last stanza

the soul has almost stopped bleeding.

Heads have earned money

and I have earned regrets.

Ah! I wish I could conjure evil spells

and turn the world upside down.

Its because of you all, I am dead today.

My expiry date! A sham!

I have loved and been loved in a fib.

Forget it!

These assimilated thoughts are fake

Also true somehow

But you will forget it anyway.