The ice melts as society sleeps somberly

by Ralkkai

All the people
I know well
in my life
are killing time
with the knives and guns
they know best
and I sit
in my depression
watching the ice
melt
in my drink.

There are those
that are absorbed
in chaos
slamming their
souls
against the manic music
of the night
endlessly
hopelessly
carnivorously
saintly.

There are those
alone
in their bedrooms
crying over
misunderstood
love
and pain
that I cannot begin
to understand.
Along and desperate
for the hand
that I cannot give
for it hurts too much
right now.
There are those so
beautiful
angelic
innocent
melancholic
saintly.

There are those
confined
to the present
as a result of the past
over grandfather
suicides
and vindictive
monetary mongrels
of times that no longer
exist
and will never exist again.
There are those
that share the same blood
and imprints as I do
and stand as a victim
to a victim
and do nothing but
write endlessly
to sedate emotions
and rid themselves
of vile thoughts and
premonitions.
They cry without
tears of sirens
and live the next day
to the best
of their ability.
these are the souls
that are now only numbers
yet they are
locked into the system
bravely
uniquely
heroically
idiosyncratically*
saintly.

There are those
that eat the night
with salt and dreams
and that cannot handle
the poisons
that I enjoy
and will never handle
what I am through
artistic
individuality
yet though
this is relevant
I still love them so
and with that known
I know I will die with
their love
for they know not
what I am
yet they return
the gift of life
with the fickle appetite
to show their love.
They seem to dream my dreams
and kill my death
and every moment I am awake
I hold in my heart
the thought that
these lovers
of love that will forever
include my unholy existence
are non-the-less
romantically
unconquerable
radically
unimaginably
saintly.

And there are those
that honor
their companions
in ways that
will never
be fully understood
or appreciated
And for these poor souls
there is nothing left
for them but
to be the ones
who fill in the empty
spaces of redemption
for a closed society
that will forever be
under the assumption
that these latter
beings are
saintly.

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