A Poet’s Burial

To write another song of heartbreak
To lose the will to live again
To write another song of hatred
To feel the urge to kill again
The same old tired numbness
Nothing different but the pen
I'm bleeding nonetheless
I don’t think I'll try again
Instead I'll draw close to Christ
And prove myself to Him
I find me all by myself again
And see that I am free from within
The urge to seek the comfort
Of another angel’s arms
Has died with everything else...
I'm dead to you...
Solitude is safety in my own arms