Shrapnel wounds

I’m losing my gears,
Expelling gun metal disparity,
Tyrant tried and true,
Shards prickling,
Clockwork explosions,
My psyche becomes poisoned,
With abscess and delusion,
Cylindrical cyanide
Oozing from the sky,
Raining down on weathered eyes,
Stinging so sweetly,
Crackling in the bells,
Reverb, mocking my mind,
Maniacally laughing,
I crave reality,
swallowed by a fairytale  of horrors,

I wish for the day all is soft,
Blanketed with hope,
wrapped up until I see the sun again,
Quietly beautiful, and serene,
Gently balanced, the lining on the mend.


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