Burnt Images Poem by Chris Tiganescu

I cannot bear these thoughts, these
tools are digging into my mind. What
is it now what holds me together?
The fact that she belongs to me is
fact enough to live but for the moment
not enough to smile. There's a whisp
of smoke riding with the dark caverns
of my mind. The darkness seeps over
my heart. The man and his soul lost to
the world he hath not a penny to his
name nor a smile on his face yet he as
all the tears of the world. I loathe this
with a hate that satan would surely cringe
at. What's the options for a man who Is
desolate in his own hateful hole. The
images race with mocking speed through
this weary mind. The  body is scarred and
the mind is burnt, the soul fades, the heart
dies... And it was all nothing more then
a bunch of lies...