Dagger, To Your Heart
Look at me, acknowledge me, please my dear.
Does my heart not thunder loud enough to hear?
My voice not give out when you stand close and near?
My skin not rise, ears not bloom, head not clear?
Then why do you still gaze, why do you still veer?
Towards another light, when you were supposed to be right here.
Where is my light? Please, I cannot see my dear.
What am I to do, when you’re not by my rear?
I am no prophet, I am no poet, I am no seer.
I’m an artist, without his light
In the night, painting without his sight
I dropped my brush and lost the man.
You took my heart, and took his hand.
I have the blade, yet I can hear your thunder.
Tell me dear, do you see me now?
I see your skin rise, I hear your voice break.
Tell me dear, can you feel me now?
Your ears bloom, hands tied, head on a quake.
Tell me dear, can you feel me burn
So why do I turn, not towards the sun, nor the dark
But towards the light I’ve forever churned
Towards you, my light my forever spark.
So then I twist and turn, and plunge my knife
Into her heart, her chest with all my might.
A gush of red, a crimson leer,
A drop of tear broke crystal clear,
A cruel, morbid murder in the middle of the night.
I did not hold the handle, because I had gained back my sight.
The palms of my hands had never left the knife.
The blade gripped tight, my hands bled bright.
Red, crimson, then a deep dark black.
The dagger could never, never could have
Pointed towards my light, my forever light.
And then it dropped.
And then I dropped.
And my world broke in half.
And I stepped in between the crack,
Because I had let go of the light,
And had never regained my sight.