Body and Soul are Dead

The

Street painted in red and black,

Comic figures talking and moving,

Tuxedo strangulating my feeble

Body

Destiny tied up as a knot,

Strangulating my neck

I effortless try to take it

And

It rips my chains into pieces

I see my dusty clothes

Lost and in motion with my

Soul

Bounty Hunters follow my every 

Step in the woods

Will I be found?

Are

You alive or just breathing?

Your lungs are effortless

Black and red, smoking hot.

Dead.

The Body and Soul are Dead.

Author's Note

This is a poem about an addiction to smoking but interpret it as you want.

Reviews

[Celestial Being]

it is apparent that the poem is about addiction and a struggle of the soul against it. you could weave it beautifully.

[Celestial Being]

a strange sorrow comes across ... unique philosophy ... loved reading it. :)