by The Mel Fri May 24, 2013 8:55 pm
The Empath
It takes me when I’m least aware
My peace it always steals
This is my gift, this is my curse:
To feel what others feel
A bitter sting flows through my nerves
The pain is not my own
I shiver in the too warm air
Too hot to feel this cold
I cannot see, the room too dim
Despite the cheerful sun
The shadows move, I cringe away
My torment has begun
A mournful owl hoots in my ear
Above the city’s roar
A lonely drip counts down my time
Behind an unseen door
A musty stench, a rancid fume
Though spring is on the breeze
A fearful bile has burned my tongue
Oh, please, stop hurting me!
I start to choke, to cough, to gasp
I cannot draw a breath
Phantom fingers crush my throat
I die another’s death.
Last edited by The Mel on Sat Aug 10, 2013 7:31 pm; edited 1 time in total
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