Suicide

When purple clouds fill
The skies of life
And rainstorms flood
the ground with fear-
The thing we dread most
Has come to pass:
We are dead to those
We hold most dear.

The soul is gnawed off
The empty shell gapes.
Rotted boards fall off
Among ghostly shapes
A dark stillness haunts-
no heart strikes a beat-
The ashes of time
stick to our feet.

Wild cries turn us hoarse,
Bloody hands,broken doors..
Ripping skin,sinew, bone
Tearing at the human cores.

Silken tethers, burning brands
Curling talons, iron hands
Softly strangle flying hope
Twisting on a hanging rope.

.....