It and Me

I'll take it with me, the human deadness, this mortal pain
All of the torment, the suffering, and I won't complain

I'll lay down to die
Without breath, without sigh

I'll lay down my arms, and smile when its over
In this field of gray, a rotted four leaf clover

Murder me, with your deceitful smile
I'll run to the darkness, of that last fated mile

Without exception, fear or worry
I'll look to our God, and bid him to hurry

With my iron contempt, unrestricted by the will to be
Glassy eyes, imagine death to everything I see

Through the dingy silence, to death's invisible glow
To the river of attrition, with venomous tide I'll go

The miserable truth and the yearning to be free
I'll take it with me, to the hangman's tree
The tortured duality of It and Me.


Poetry