The Bleeding Mask

The Bleeding Mask, originally uploaded by firoze shakir photographerno1.

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to survive
the onslaughts
of time
pain is a
i need
a pain on
the palm
of my destiny
i carried
blindfolded
on the scaffold
it was love
i married
the soul
of my sorrow
i hastily
buried
now back
from the dead
in a bleeding mask
wasted and wearied
trying to grow
back
into her heart
like a wanton seed
a dreamer
lost in a surrealistic
world
paper wings
is all i need
cannibalizing
my despair
on my flesh
i feed
a sunset
less in my life
for another
chance
i plead
words
on her
conscience
string of
broken beads