Life Cuts Deep
The blade is sharp and slashes deep
Waking me from this walking sleep.
Bloodied hands I use to reap, mangled strands I wish to keep.
Blood streams down into my eyes making for a good disguise
To hide the truth from the wise and making it hard to realize.
Flayed in pain too much to care.
Broken down to utter despair.
On my knees in solemn prayer, hoping to end this night mare.
But tomorrow comes to brighten the way and brings with it another day.
Shadows at last, held at bay and darkness fades all away.
The knife’s edge is made to wound
With time to practice, it perfectly prunes.
Snips and shapes until well-groomed and prepares the soul
For its bloom.