I listen with heart in ear, to any and all regurgitated themes.
With piercing screams deafening, do you intend to see me bleed?
Appearances contradict, but yes, the beating becomes painful.
As the resulting palpitations cause me to lie wounded on the floor.
Blood seeping from each ear, my thinning tunnel vision turning black.
I bear this burden, but do you know my attention never waivers?
Despite being audible, I seem to be in lack of voice.
My final words, I hope your listening, but doubt is consuming.
Still disregarded even in likeness, oh the irony is quite hilarious.
Left in such a state, blood completely drained from my hollow veins.
Death leaves me without a plethora of distractions from your word.
Although I don't listen, my cold corpse disgusted at ill words heard.
The dead never truly listen, as they have no meaning to obtain...
Only transfixing upon the blood from their own empty veins.
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