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

everyday

 

but won’t give in

never give in

 

to the evil within

let poetry die