When my mind stops thinking

its all in the eye, its all in the gaze, that I feel shy,
deep down into the dungeon its all just the same,
tearing down in to my flesh no pain, cold blood runs,
harder and harder its clings on to the veins
the feeling very difficult to perceive is exhilaration to annihilation
the peak of desire the utmost disgusted truth, the reality,
its raining and with every drop every day I am reminded,
the darkness is very hard to keep ,to be hidden,
feeling quite foolish a jester of the world,
making it known to be readable understandable is dangerous,
yet I sigh again, yet I do breathe, yet I do express,
each a risk of being exposed to the end of guilt,
will I ever be exonerated from this silent act,
the soul such a playful mate, quite often a puppet,
lost in the realms of ashes, of love and hate