ONE

an athiest lament


i try to sing in the dark
but cannot find the spark
this lonely voice i project
is instantly lost from neglect
i like my face without light
i keep going mostly out of spite
full of piss and decadence
for my imaginary jeering audience

if i pose like jesus christ
as if he was thrown on ice
would my skin freeze to the cross
would all be lost

and as the wine kicks in
i feel my skin wear thin
i stare down into my soul
i see its blackened hole
i feel so tragically broken
air still rings as if i had just spoken
the fading resonance of a beautiful dream
that turned dissonant and came apart at the seams

if i contort like jesus christ
would i collapse under frozen cross on ice
would my skin get hard as wood
would all be lost, it should

a shallow shell of a half rung bell
chimes loudly at me but for no one
out of tune and out of time
i feel lost and forgotten by everyone
i try to scream in the dark
is it too late to make my mark?
this desperate lonely rebellious yell
is weak despite its decible

on the ground like jesus christ
abandoned body a useless shell on the ice
i left against medical advice
i left to pay the price