I shot the bullet and I prayed to the room
What I asked for was never a tomb
Need of a relief to ease out the silence
Yet all I see are volumes of violence
Jab to the ribs that won’t save a thing
Faded outline of a once human being
What stands here will never be the same
Added the tally and it’s all my blame
Rests on the shoulders and whispers it’s lies
No moment of relief for me to rebuild the skies
Instead it’s just a machine of pure rejection
Manufactured form of sullied affection
Paralysed by the structures of words
Soon I will be remembered in thirds
While submerged beneath the arctic skin
Never wanted to be a zealous linchpin
But somehow my existence ended up twisted
I should have at the very least resisted
Though I was too lost in all of the attention
If only I’d have taken that intervention
Not thrown those close to me so far away
Let the bridges burn until they linked nobody
That was the past and means nothing to you
It’s just the background to what then did follow
So I confess and you know why I do
Can’t get the screams out for just a few
I rarely seem to close my eyes
To do so might bring back the cries
Guilt lies here and I now admit
All this pain was what I did commit
No point in hiding behind some story
Everything done was for my self glory
Images with which I will have to live
Don’t except any to ever forgive
Simon A Jackson - Writer 