the sacrifice of murder

[jikan myshkin]

Naked, guilt ridden every time I take the pen to the page

I have killed a tree to personify my feeble complaint

the best things in life that they send you

are never meant to reach you otherwise you'd be tortured with hope,

and no one really wants that for their third born child

the promises that are made to the wind to blow you back again

are lost in the lamenting dark that shields the demons from your poison stare

the songs that come out of the record player feel too numb to be true

and in my hand 'the death of a ladies man' every word rings true

and this is where one can find this fool called poetry

who wrote to relieve the pitiful pain and to stain Jesus' sacred tree

and if the holy scriptures were written on flesh like mine

the lions would be tamed and the trees would loose their bark

the I in poetry is always a truth that is distorted

to lie with the truth and make peace with the sun are bizarre fantasies

of all those who have come before to proclaim in such a lowly manner

'the poet has died on his cross, Leonard Cohen is no more'

yet the words coming off the page bleed into my eyes

and I am forced to admit that the published word is not worth a tree's life

and if you can come fumbling through this night

to where my tears line the floor

maybe i'd be strong enough to cry

instead on worshipping these tears that had fallen,

long before there were tulips in amsterdam and hitler was just a myth

and the book of longing was torn and smashed like two tablets of stone

and if someone should ask you now

if you feel good or bad

you must cover up these words with a smile

and say everything happens in its own time

[ShadowFire]

Very powerful. I like the ending a lot too. Awesome poem. Thank you for sharing.

[sundays50]

Upon the earth. A panting silence fills

[JBI]

Perhaps you could cut out prepositional and transitional words to make the flow better, because as it is, the lines are too long to really read the way I think you mean them to.