Razor

To releive a belief of loathsom inadequecy,
a razor of serrated doubt cuts lightly shallow skin,
feeling the cooled pain wash over appaled emotions,
bleeding is only reverberating within excrutiating ridicule.

Coarsed breath of unheeded pleading benevolent madness,
the rusted blade used over countless dormant personalities,
enshrined in an abandoned coffin placed openly,
pain that gladly pays vile debts caused justifiable veangeance.

Stinging voices of weeping loved ones requesting peace,
asking forever in saddened closing pointless grave,
if my broken soul was granted flight or felled inferno,
the knife of degrading words wrought our ominous ghosts.

Sinking into dammned delerium by deepened gashes,
becoming the scorched visage of tragic sickened hate,
resting laughing on the insane senseless nowhere,
suicide did not warmly provide my nearsighted redemption.