The living dead.

They could hear it a thousand miles away
A scream of anguish, A scream of pain
I howled into a moonlit sky,
Sobs erupted and I would cry

The wind whipped around me,
Standing bare-foot on a hill
The harsh howl growing
My stern face not showing;

The emotion I'd hid for so long
The heartbreak and terror,
Behind a cracked mask
Was normal life too much to ask?

I didn't know what was real anymore,
The living dead mistaken, as the norm
I was medically living, classed as alive,
However my heart, black and deprieved.

I could taste a familiar metallic twang,
It was bitter and poisoned- my blood.
Being left alongside the evil and wrong
I feared I'd been infected too long.

They all influenced, my actions and words,
Expecting something perfect, in shape and form.
I knew I couldn't deliver, my fight was dead,
Now I was stuck, locked up in my head.

Insane was a term many could use,
I blame it on them, they made me lie,
What use was I now, all I had was fake
As promised I was the Lord's to take.

He was the only one, who understood.
The only one to take me as I am
He was the fixer, he held the key
To him I'd pay any and every fee.

So I took out the book,
and sat it carefully on my knees
Opening it out and finding a verse
That'd free me from this awful curse.

I would pray for them, pray for them all,
I'd walk back home, and help them
For they were alone, without a hope
I'd show them the way to cope.

I wrote this just now, I have no-one to show, is it any good.
Comments appreciated!
--Rachel.