Escapism - POEM #2

 The aged black skeleton is on its knees in pain.

Shaking skinny hands cover its ears and its wounds.
A knife is in its mind.
Stab, stab, pierce, pierce.

It would do anything to stop the bleeding.
It looks down at the ground
To see a pond of blood.
A knife is in its mind.
Stab, stab, pierce.

Tears erode its sensitive bones.

An inviting yellow light attracts its attention.

It is sucked towards the dreamy space.

Is the knife leaving its mind?

Stab, pierce.

Its eyes cannot see its body nor blood.

Perhaps this place is its answer? Its cure?

"Continue here I shall,

As it seems that I have finally escaped."

Is the knife not in its mind anymore?

Stab.

Is the light fading?

Its head starts to whiz.

The light goes out.

Is that the knife coming back?

Stab, pierce.

Its eyes can see now.

"Worse! Worse!"

Its bones are frail and skinnier,

 With new cracks in some,

Whilst others are worn away into piles of powder.

It looks down at the ground

To see a lake of blood.

A knife is in its mind.

Stab, stab, pierce.

The yellow light made it blind and numb

To larger waterfalls of erosive tears and excessive blood.

The knife has done its job.

Stab, stab and die.