Beneath the surface
of
beautiful things
their
demon visage
lurks
and calls
in voices pleasing
to
the ear

To come and frolic
in the waves,
to fly,
to stop
the Pain

And you,
unable to summon
your thoughts
to fight
the siren call
that pulls
your feelings
like the high tide at
full moon

Walk into the waves,
leap from the ledge,
and pull the trigger

Stop razing spirits,
cut with white hot knives
their
lying tongues

Scar the faces
of the ones
who scythe
your soul
and leave
the husk of you

Lying

in broken
pieces
only to find
your soul
not
peaceful

Still.

© Alfred W. Smith Jr. 2015