Gothic-Surrealism

Words of a world, strange though wonderful.

Decapitated Mind

Beheaded I lay.

Guillotined and paraded.

 

Eyes of my veiled executioner

screamed a merciless human nature.

 

A killed man

I am.

 

Had I been born into noble upbringings,

would have death adjourned… egotism procuring time?

 

I don’t know.

I’ll just be me, no more, no less.

 

My body could be destroyed.

Memory’s how I’ll live on.

 

Even in death,

one can have touch on emotionality.

 

My words will be read and absorbed…

we’ll see how toxic they’ll be!

 

Please don’t take a quote

and bend it out of its meant proportion.

 

Look at the words but don’t taint their meaning.

I’ll be understood… I hope.

 

I have a decapitated mind.

Thoughts that have sheared off,

 

left for the world’s scavengers to gossip, point, and tap,

consuming what’s better than them.

 

A killed mind I have.

Such minds amputated from touch may not persevere.

 

One day the curtains shall lower

and the show of a lifetime will end.

 

“An immortal sip for mortal beings…”

may this be on my plaque in death…