The Trouble with Bleeding

We purge ourselves of sinful indulgence,
Of heartache, neglect and regrets we’ve not welcomed.
Flash in a dream what we were in a past life;
The heaviness weighs like an impending sentence.
To all that we’ve seen through the eyes of the Devil,
And all that we’ve done in this life we’ve unravelled,
There’s some spark of light if we’ve known love’s existence,
There’s truth in the heart that no man’s mind creates.
Spirits entwine playfully in the absence
Of rules and constructions of other men’s games.
We bleed ourselves trying to live for tomorrow,
To survive and to find the labyrinth’s gate.
Innocence lost like spoiled confections
Years long ago at the least chosen moment.
All these things rush like blood to the membrane,
All of these things I cared not to say,
Washing me clean to myself as I once knew.
Let it rush through now – I’m calm and awake.