Digital drawing · Personal · poetry · reflective

The tune.

Bone of my bone,

Skull unto me,

My life drains from my own insanity.

Thus what my orbs see,

are nothing compared to others,

all that of suicidal thoughts inside me.

If that black smoke comes in view,

 will I let him influence

that white oblivion and promises me

 it will makes sense.

Do I give in,

would I give up.

What choice will it make out of me.

Will I be my own or a victim of this statistical society.

She is staring at me,

seducing me 

in the bed 

where all are dead.

Whom do I choose.

A pale rider comes up

 in an Elvis get up.

A tune eerily singing.

 “R u lonesome tonight. . .”


A tribute to death suicides,

Death does not discriminate celebrities and common people.




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