The Last March of a Dark Poet, By Byron Coetzee

I looked inside and saw the truth
the truth is that i have no soul
black as night this poet's heart
no shield of armour to gaurd his heart

he now feels nothing, no sence of worth
Its strange he feels no pain anymore
he now has peace and thats his truth

that the pain he feels will soon be gone
he cannot change his chosen fate
or bring back the love that changed his life

he does not feel and thats his curse
To never ever feel his soul
he cannot sleep and thats his curse

to be reminded of his joke
the simple hings he meant to say
as simple as to say goodbye

he has no feelings none at all
so off to bed this poet goes
never to feel anything but alone

The Last March of a Dark Poet