A World Of Problems

Devils wait

With cruel temptation

Around us around us

And after the sin

Depression within 

Grows like an illness

Shrouds the love

Hell is a state of being

A self imposed suffering

Hating ourselves

Crying in death

Why Lord?

Why Lord?

Must my last question

Be met with silence

At gates of understandIng

I am a graveyard

I weep in an eternal grave

For there is no light just a sanguine flame of hate

Warm putrid flesh decays

And where is the soul?

Won't you rise from your hole

My loving friend

Save me from my self made tomb of mortal chains

Before it's to late

Before I lose hold

Of that which is gold

To me

To me

Days nights the feeling seems to grow 

And my cold wake continues on

Like an endless sadness crying at a funeral

How did he die?

He was such a nice fellow

Unfortunately the face betrays the pain

The lips move uttering two word lies

I'm fine

I'm ok

Don't worry

About me

It's not cool to be depressed

Now I'm repressed

And who can blame us

When we blame ourselves

For the problems of a world

Are yours and mine

A poem by

Liam Herdman

CTID