It’s in all of these

These burnt tears in my eyes
are empty houses on a street,
a despondent epilogue
And I, a heavy heart hole in a music note
ending the theme song.
the waves that blow my brows
are colored songs of sadness.

I am a foliage of poison
weightless and sting-less
I am tired of these roots
that shoot down like a waterfall
that is still looking for its mother
so it makes this thudding
sound.

My skin is now a graveyard
each shovel exposes a dead body.
many bodies have I eaten
swallowed, spewed, swallowed, chewed
many headstones are tattooed across my ocean-eyes
while I ache in silence
seeking a comfortable page to tell these tales.

I am a sanctimonious sinner
whose confessions are best described by a Limerick
that wrecks the foundation of what not,
of God, and of one who is a man.
I have lived my moment
in the morning of darkness
and still found no answers
in haiku at night.

Ruddapoet

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