poetry

Iron

the scent of iron haunts me
the blood on my hands and falling from my eyelids
I killed my consciousness today
again

pills and potions
the magical brew of silence
the spell puts me to sleep
as my fingers tear the veils
in which I lay
again

The galaxies born and die
as I slumber covered in dust and cobwebs
will I clean the iron from my hands?
the red rubies fall around me


again.