Endsong Poem by Brandi Guthrie
Endsong
Here it is again,
The creeping ache.
The endless dread
Takes a scarlet shade.
And inches down
Where I bury deep
This coil wound
Insatiable need
What have I done?
Dear friendly blade,
That might draw the sun
And moon to fade.
My eyes may close
One final time…
Will rest my woes,
Shall never cry.
This is a call to death... an inner voice seeking comfort in silence. It takes a lot of self-hate, depression or schizopheria (unless it is an honour killing!) to dip suicidal levels in life. But I am unsure if this wound is self-inflicted or has soem one inflicted it? Not just a physical wound but some one has a placed self-doubt demon in your spirit and there it feeds on your confidence until all is doom and gloom! Very well written this is and quite forboding with a lot of emotional content... may it never happen to you in the near future Brandi... I'd miss your writes!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/20/2024 9:49:22 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I love how well you write, so much I wish you didn't write so well about these things, but they are a part of you and I am so glad you can share in such a brilliant way.