DUST OF ANGELS

PAIN, I AWAIT THE PAIN.
I anticipate the ecstasy of the feeling,
and perusing it through the ultimate desire,
for which this man will create by hire.
Upon his request, my arm I rest,
while my eyes gaze upon the empty ceiling.

I AM SO HI.
The dust of angels has infest,
with a wanting to die, to become extent,
to become dead.

REMOVE IT NOW!
My arm becomes crimson red,
and time is the hour glass sand,
as the one of hire removes my hand.
Nothing is said for the mind is at rest.

I AM SO HI.
I wished it faster.
Now moving too slow by the hired master.
My mind is reaching the wonderland,
while gazing at the table which looked like had bled.

I AM SO HI.
Now, the one of hire still at stand,
singed the remains with a cool breeze of fire.
I am total calm, for I am one without hand,
and the other reeks of dust from the angels on my palm.

I AM CONTENT, I AM THERE.
As I let blood from my hand flow through my hair,
I know now the dismemberment that I had lust,
was caused by excessive use of the Angels Dust.

I AM SO SICK.