Believe me now.

You, my dear, won’t get another chance.

Drawn on skin, in bleeding veins and glass shards.

Carved in hearts beating in hands belonging to powerful and mystical creatures.

Believe the words.

They might save your soul.

Echoed by the struggling pulses of millions wasting their lives away.

Sung by the free ones soaring six feet under in memoriam.

My love, pay heed…

For my lips do feel poisoned, my tongue does taste the metallic reality of what I say…

Etched into lead slabs, ten feet high above my head…

To fall when spoken, love, onto my brain (grey splashes and red is seen)…

The words damned and known to all but none.

“All is full of love”