Deprived Inspiration

Instead of death;
What hell do you live in?
As the sun breaks—
Upon the satin clouds
And a cliff of gold sparks.
With a wasteland of evil horrors,
Beneath my feet—
All that can be done is to observe,
For my heart is wrenched—
Twisted and pulled to a given shape,
Where I can feel no pain
Nor love that once was so great
As a beautiful flower – a poppy of sorts.
Now watch the moon pass and die,
Steal the life from my still beating soul.