let poetry die

yesterday I wanted

poetry to die


today I write

what’s beyond my mind


the lord’s my shepherd

there’s nothing alive


I’m a lamb

who wants


the nothing’s my guide

when everything’s consumed


practice a ritual

unknown but shown


tomorrow I’ll find

what I need to survive


the lord is my gift

given to me by nothing


I crave an apple



but won’t give in

never give in


to the evil within

let poetry die