the tears have passed and all is clean,
but now my face is streaked with pain.
and though these ghosts have left my life
the shallow fears and shame remain.
my face is cold; it's features grim.
my body's numb; thin hands like ice
grip the handle of the gun
in a self-rightous sacrifice.
no pain inflicted by this lead
could ache more than my bleeding heart,
whose veins once pulsed with deathless life,
its ventricles now torn apart.
