burning bridges

burning bridges

A Poem by joshua deathdealer
"

05/2012

"
How I revel in the darkness
that has consumed and is
destroying me. The sound
of dirt hitting my closed
casket is like unto a
long awaited concert.

Thud Thud Thud

When you live to die,
time is such a nasty thing.
Dragging by as the sun
burns lines in my skin.
Day after day after dreaded
day. I never wanted this life.

Take it back. Put it into 
someone who actually 
might give a damn. Someone 
who may take it and use it on
a better purpose for I have
burned all my bridges.

I have laid in waste for so
long that the buzzards 
circle overhead while I
bleed out steadily yet slowly. 
Understand that the brave die 
and walk the same.

© 2012 joshua deathdealer


Author's Note

joshua deathdealer

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Featured Review

Sweetness= that totally rocked.I knew I would read a great thing from you. Anyways I loved the flow with this as everything came pouring out I could not stop reading. I really favored the ending "understand the brave die and walk the same." Everywhere we go we cross a bridge leading us to another but, eventually it feels all the bridges are gone and closed.Lleaving us alone with death shadowing us behind. Well done.

Posted 5 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

interesting somber thoughts, though I think we need you and your poetry here, I'm sure you have a lot left to say Joshua.

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Having read this the day it was published, I have been back several times and each time I find myself at a loss of words...Perhaps it feels too close to feelings I once had. You are a fine writer Joshua, you are clearly able to express your darkest emotions as well as a diversity of other emotional creative expressions. I find myself captivated by the contrasts of emotions in your writing...

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Well said. Powerful and strongly spoken.

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

no better words could be spoken. We live only to die. Android to die so we might live. Great poem. Nicely done.

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

not exactly a hallmark moment... vivid images, charred spires of a burnt bridge or stakes of a pyre?

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Deep and dark.When you live to die,
time is such a nasty thing.
Poignant.

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

My dad would walk around and say "dead man walking"... this is sort of the feeling I get with this.. Some days I look in the mirror and wonder..why...and what the hell..where is it all taking me.. But I trust the journey has a higher purpose then I could ever know.. Sorry rambling.. excellent write..xo

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

This is a depressed man's anthem, one that suffers a deep depression. The kind that can paralyze one into death and darkness. A stellar piece.

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

How do I love the line: " I have burned all my bridges " as I know really what you are talking about, not even were we spoke honestly about, but it reach so much deeper... it's a wonderful spiritual path, you just overwon. And I feel related to this poem, as my city bridge in Arnhem litteraly was bombed and burned by the Germans.

So, Hats off in all ways a very keen write!

xo E.L.

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

A very interesting poem. I like the emotion and the desire of having little to hope for and want. Easy to find this place. Sometime we need to learn our lessons and try again. Death is the end. A outstanding poem.
Coyote

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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1157 Views
35 Reviews
Rating
Shelved in 3 Libraries
Added on May 7, 2012
Last Updated on May 8, 2012
Tags: death, dark, poetry

Author

joshua deathdealer
joshua deathdealer

Casket City, FL



About
"My trepidation of things past is not a song with a beginning, middle and end. But an endless symphony playing infinite variations on the same theme. One day of sadness fades into another and the .. more..

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A Poem by joshua deathdealer



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