Early Morning Poetry

Blood. Down your throat, down your face
The end. No more pride, no more grace
You're choking on the words you try to say
and your sins are digging down your grave

Pray no more, there's no God here
Our souls are filthy, whose is clear?
Or if you will, you pray but yet remember
No one listens, no one loves you tender

No one will 'be there' forever
Trust is dull, you're more clever
Drown and die but have you lived with honor?
When no one got to know you, you're just another stoner

I know that you're deeper though
Broken heart, damaged soul
The rest, they see just a facade
If you seek truth, you must seek inside.