PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Wash away my hatred and black pain
Cleanse my soul of this earthly madness
Creator if you have created why?
Some sort of sick joke?
Death Oh how a comfort it becomes
To love to hate to Kill
You have had your fill
I bow at the feet of What?
Its comical even though it hurts
When all sense and reason become nothing more than an electric spark
To ignite another bout of angst
Rain lash these eyes that have laughed at the unfortunate
Ridiculed the weak
Is this my punishment?
Cleanse me let me sleep.

© Tony McNally