At the Funeral
In the dark hazes of sorrow,
surrounds me some faces so somber
still can't get to the gospel
fumes of pleasure taught me
ignited by the temptation
when airs of tension filled in me
prompted by anxiety
in a prolonged waiting
to vent the anger
in a cauldron
puffed the crazy vapors
the white soldiers of death
now laid me deep numb and silent
six feet under.
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