Speaking In Tounges

Walls go up for the hell
that dwells deep in my head
that sweeps the bowels of
my stomach and rises dead.

I take in the inferno blue
that burns hotter so choose
I do the tunes that churn
moments I can tear through.

So damn manic so I panic
the day played out not well.
The walls are tall so welcome
not to the guarded fairy-tale.

Secret I keep it so close my
overtures of revelry in heaven.
Physical touch my God expects
a part of my bread I leaven.

But my sorrow sweeps soul
of mine and the desert expanse
is a field of laughter where
my inner devils they do dance.

I cry inside my head so you
can not nor ever will ever see.
I cry deep down in my heart
for my demons to set me free.

Maybe it will enough for me
once I expell the leviathan down
back to the unspoken parts of
my inner sanctum not to be found.

Children weep in the streets
of my city up up and away stay.
I turn just to just listen to them
and let my tounge leak ink play.

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