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The Debt

A poem by me!

By The Man Behind The MaskPublished about 4 hours ago 2 min read

The chimes grow louder

The bell gongs

And yet I'm prouder

Of your crazy rock songs

--

Troubled beyond belief

The best at heart

We've all known great and heavy grief

Wishing it wasn't such a troubled start

--

And grow little seed grow

To become something so complex

I pray it won't be soon when I go

But I fear that soon, I must rest

--

Oh how you showed me things I've never known

The things that were in front of me

I had hoped to have grown

Into something that you'd be proud to see

--

Hardships break the spirit, and eventually the mind

If not for you, my best and truest friend

I do not know if it was peace that I would find

Only you and one other, will I worry about most in the end

--

Time does come for all of us, someday

The fires were burning so bright

Burned them hotter than one should, night and day

It leaves one with little left to use in the fight

--

For the cold hand still reaches out from beyond this plane

Its icy pull reaching further for its prey

It's the knowing not everything will get done that's often insane

So, it's to the angel that one must say, not today

--

The looks of doubt and fear growing more frequent

Push on like a soldier, fighting through the worst of pain

The bill that all must pay becomes more and more delinquent

For of the undone as you're slowly washed away with the rain

--

Again, to the angel, we scream no, not today

Clutching onto the things that matter with an unknown might

To feel the warmth and light of every new sun's ray

To live, laugh, feel, and enjoy, through one more night

--

Heads drop

And eyes grow weary

Do not stop

No matter how dreary

--

Until that last inevitable breath you take

Always a chance to win

Or to stay and be human, and make one more mistake

If only to show your resolve, as you dig in

--

To the angel, the words are no, not today

There is till much to be done

Yes, there's the bill that you must pay

But you'll not give up that day in the sun

--

Someday you know that the reaper will collect you

But until that time it is he whom you reject

Because until that bill is finally do

Screw him, with all due respect

surreal poetryperformance poetry

About the Creator

The Man Behind The Mask

From fiction to reality there’s tons to share about this crazy life. From being a single father, an officer, and having had many insane adventures while I learned about the world, my imagination runs wild with ideas.

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