Insane Verses In Blood
By Fiza Pathan
Darkness still clouds my reason and I cut my wrists
To see the blood drip from my external wounds.
But the past is deep and my internal scars are many.
So let me drink my own blood to taste the devil in me
Blood is the life of mortals and the sin of Satan.
Many loves have gone past me
After whipping me with pieces of broken glass.
Now I lie in the dark of the night,
Bleeding and disappointed with all the world has to offer.
Do you know what has happened to me?
It’s a part of my history in blind optimism where love is concerned.
But now I’m like a bleeding piece of flesh
With no depth and no tragedy to talk of,
And fish for words to philosophize my state.
More shreds of glass will puncture my flesh
And more whipping is in store for me
As I enter the tomb of unhappy endings.
The Psalm has been recited and my eyes are closed to all my scabs.
Madness now overpowers the poet,
The poet who is cut from end to end.
I’m not a prophet but I can tell you my future;
In the tomb I shall lie until a lover enters to awaken my dead soul.
Save me my dripping red blood from the snares of the insane one
Save me my dripping red blood from the verses of insanity that I pen down.
The coffin recognizes me and I too am known to it.
Beware of me reader and my queer verses.
Who knows what pleasure death shall bring to the insane poet
Which the mortification of her own body cannot give.
Copyright © 2014 by Fiza Pathan
Image Courtesy: http://www.morguefile.com/archive/display/67265