16 Comments

Black Sabbath

Everything that I’ve written has derived straight from my heart

Each and every word has pumped through my veins and out of this abused pen

Tell me why to speak if no one listens

No one’s there to hold me when I’m down

No one cares to open an ear

Or to wipe a tear

All I hear in solitude is the laughter

The grinding of teeth haunts my sleep every night

There shall be no rest

Only stress

There shall only be burden pressed against my chest

Feel the fire

Feel the passion

My only escape is within a dream

Or so it seems until my slumber is interrupted by the screams

Where were you after you said you were there?

I will notify

You were high

As Hell

As church bells

Off pills

Was this your first?

Nope, you only thirst for numbers I cannot tell

And the Cocaine?

I pray you didn’t snort a line as well

Are you sane?

Don’t comfort me with your pity; it is reversed

You were gone in my worst and are now painting a hearse

Don’t ask why I stopped to try…

Why I ceased to cry and debate

I love you to death, yet my heart reeks with the hate

And the sunshine reaps the destinies of fate

It was in February, almost a year ago

I was blessed with the curse to have known…

A demon so fowl, clawing my soul in order to grow

No names, I’ve already made this too personal

But your impact is intact and versatile

Joy is not a toy

I have given

I have tried to enjoy

It seldom seems that I will receive

This life of mine is a ploy

A plan

A gift to withstand

Through cactus, prickles of razors and sand

I am…

On my knees, but the prayer’s responses are bland

So please…

Trust me…

I will never expect you to understand

My foot’s laces are geometric

You shall wear diamond lenses for breakfast

And by life’s noon, the shoes will appear hectic

No respect

You’ve tried to collect a dept with a broken neck

Recklessness

No fiber of being, only clear meaning to test

To progress

To appreciate what is left

Or whatever that you think is right

Whatever that you think is correct

I’m running low on breath

The smoke chokes

Black fumes resume to elope

A sick joke

Before my eyes, a fire of lies in disguise

The ashes of blazes rise to the skies

Souls are tied

Innactive tides are always alive

This means that the brainless shores will never survive

You must think

You must blink the lids of broken bids

The shallow depts are foretold by kids

Young and dumb

Scum is Mr. Wise

You trick and treat and fail to be descrete

I was a friend, I cared

You turned your back

Then…

Called right back

How could you dare?

Quiet nightmare, the savannahs of silence

A bitter past, shrouded in violence

Memories of disease, tumor in tummy

Devils on the block, Southern Pines

The home of the rock, thought it was funny

Grandma grew bloated

I fare unworthy, may I not be quoted

I too laughed at school

That is, the same day that she died

Dad called to relay the news

No surprise, only clues

On her death bed, she plead my brother’s name

But not her own son’s, there’s room to explain

Down the timeline

In the bathroom

Grandpa is slain

A stroke to the brain, waiting for three days

Seventy-two hours of the showers

Mute is the rain

Cute is the pain

Murder, bloody-murder

Kill, kill, kill

Pill, pill, pill

After a little while, he lay in the hospital with a smile

There was hope as he began to move a toe

I don’t know…

How you stretched your love as a band

To stare at the man who left you to die

When asked to hold his hand, I refused and started to cry

Days later, grandpa gave up his life

So that he may lay next to his wife

Forever and ever…

For worst and for better…

Through the wettest of weather…

For you

And for you

And you know who

I have written this letter

I forgive you.

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16 comments on “Black Sabbath

  1. Oh my word this was painful to read I can only begin to imagine what it was like to write.

  2. So very sad, i hope you’re okay!

  3. Wow. Man, this is awesome. I love the gift at the end. Love it.

  4. There is light at the end of the tunnel, the tools are given along life’s journey all in its own time, the first one is the gift of expressing it in words. Never give up, it only gets better

  5. Beautiful beautiful work! Lots of people will be very moved by its honesty, and it proves you are a considerable artist. As an artist, I fear that some readers will cop out by thinking it’s got nothing to do with them, but will only read it as another life for them to rubberneck, though at places you overcome that problem by writing so well! Certainly poetry gives the poet the opportunity to tell the world – “complaint” is an old term for a poem – but I believe it’s also an opportunity to “make” something and that enables the poet to take greater control over some aspect of his or her life, if only for a moment.
    I have occasionally tried to help addicted friends “replace your drug with art”, with varying results! Besides the “therapeutic” and “mind changing” aspects (the difficulties of changing other people’s minds are explored in John Donne’s “the Triple Fool”) poetry is also a craft and you, Eddie, are well on your way to becoming a master!

    • I really appreciate this. We’re all given some sort of obstacles throughout our lives and it’s on us to find out how to deal with them. I was blessed to find that writing allows me to pour out what’s inside. And a master? Haha, what do you think can help me get better?

  6. Good Poem you know We go through a battle everyday in life. Even though we might feel sad depressed, angry, at the momant. Just remember a couple of things God will not give you what you can’t handle. At the end of any battle strom you are going through their is rainbow at the end of it. God bless you.

  7. Very evocative. I really like this piece as I do much of your work. You are so brave as a writer and an inspiration to me. Today was a perfect day and time in my life to read this. Thanks.

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