Cursed

This is a story about a kid with a curse.
Fighting the demons and driving the hearse.
Reach out to help him but not even he,
Knows quite where to find them, he’ll never be free.
But out of the dark, this incredible feeling,
Has hope shown her face ? Can he begin healing ?
He embraces the warmth, true love discovered.
Though failing to notice, defenses now smothered.
The flood gates are open, it cannot be stopped.
The stars are all falling, the moon all but dropped.
The beast, domineering, hands over his knife,
But only to suffer, not enough to take life.

The kid, now a man, is now begging for death,
The pain has consumed him, to his very last breath.

Still he holds fast, by no choice of his own.
His cold, lonesome heart, now permanent stone.

Reviews

[fireblossom]

The angst many do not survive is described really well here. I'm sixty. Your poem took me right back to my early years when I verged destruction. Glad I survived to read your poem. Well written.