Beauty Forsaken

What is beauty forsaken?
Is it a forgotten poem?
A kiss that refuses to linger?
Laughter no longer heard in a desolate place?
Is it the one who climbs the rocky crag
Coming to stand upon the barren cliff
Screaming and whimpering for what's lost
The only thing returning to them is a haunted echo of what was
Mercy and love have been forsaken
I crawl on hands and knees
No longer lucid
Begging for something to soothe my cracked and dry lips
Heat throbs in my temple Sand invades every crevice of my body
I have been stripped of my innocence
and cast into the fiery pit of hell
alone and lost in the darkness I long to be lifted from my knees
To stand in the light
A hand is cast over my scarred misshapen soul
Will judgment be delivered upon what is left of me?
will the judge swing his gavel down on my head and pronounce me guilty
Have I created my own prison?
Am I to blame for what's transpired?
Forgive me if it is so
For I will suffer forever more

My writing after too many drugs

Avoid the dark shadows
They are elongated fingers of the grave
They curl around you like grey flavors of smoke
Their purpose is to envelop you in thick greasy smog
It will embrace your lungs and choke you
Robbing them of vital oxygen
Every hit from the pipe will do that to you
Leaving your eyes red rimmed and apathetic
Transforming you into a shadow of yourself
A shell of a person
Nothing matter no more
Except the next high
The sweet bliss of escape rings in your ears
You do anuthing to obtain that feeling
Forsaking and forgoing everything that used to be important
What's important any more when it seems that god hisself has turned his back on you in disgust
Which don't matter no more neither
Drugs have become the object of worship
Just holding it is partaking of god's flesh and blood
It is what communion is to a Catholic
And why shouldn't they be held in reverence?
It seems to be the only friend you got left
Can you blamed fucked up people for doing fucked up things?
The reality of what happened to you is to much to bear
something something something
Until you crack like Humpty dumpty
And all the king's horses and all the king's men won't be able to put me together again
Then I will be committed me to the ground
Something
Oh dandelions and grass plenty, grow over my grave and cover me
for I lie naked in my shame
PS I wrote this poem coming down of drugs. Then I got high again and lost 2/3rds of it. My bad. Sorry. It was good, I swear.