"The crown of Thomas" by Dalmain Snyman

Shares0Facebook0 Tweet0 Pin0 Print0 Email0 LinkedIn0

The crown of Thomas

I am the uncomfortable sleep, sitting fast and sore
When you rub I cling deeper to your skin
I am the slimy sleep that keeps your sight obscured
Holding on to your fight and winning

I am the unburdened hate left to play inside you
The more you struggle, the greater I become
I am the pain so strong which holds us together
Never changing, no rest for the undeserving

I am a low light in a chasm of a helpfulness
Unthankful, remorseless and unsatisfied
I am the death of you
When it’s all over we lose

I am forever the open mouth, always hungry
My voice stings your ears and you feed still
I am the end that never started first
I am the nothing you want