The Spider and the Devil

 

Consciousness is such a bastard.

Make it go away

and it comes back again.

Brings me my mind

in perfect torment,

or the world,

which never satisfied.

 

Brought me you,

to teach me of betrayal,

in my own heart

and in yours.

That kind of breaking

is enough to make a man

want to lay down

and never rise again.

 

Then,

the dreams come,

and that’s why I believe

in Hell;

torment,

timeless,

with no escape.

An eternity of time

compressed,

only to wake up again

right back where I was.

 

Caught up in the web

of my own life.

Praying for the spider to come

and then,

I realize

I am him.

I guess it keeps me from suicide;

knowing Hell could be real.

 

So I’m left with one more option

get up,

get dressed,

make coffee,

and pick up my pen.

Not sure

if this is embracing life,

or flipping off God,

and living despite it all.

 

Maybe it’s the Devil

that needs the “Fuck you!”,

but like the spider,

I think there’s a good chance

I am like him.

Wander this world

until my time comes.

Dealing with life,

and death,

and occasional trips down South.

 

Maybe I’ll make something

out of all of this

after all.

 

 

HG – 2021

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