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.