My entry to a daily Poetry contest....

About a psychotic mind...and the breeze

Early breeze fills the lungs of a Demon

The wind smells of blood and unfurfilled promises...
least to me...
then again a slight notation of my mental status reviews my erratic behavior to be....
threatening?
Quistionable?
For a moment there i saw a desire...
of a life lived...
in the breezes of childhood
an acid trip to God reminds me of my faith....
The tv Faith man reviews himself in my mirrow.........
Deep brown i call it.
The spiritual face of awakening.....
snort the solution in the brain of a cracked out old man...
So all i have left is the breeze....
and of course.........






death.