The Cold Hands

The cold Hands shiver at their duty
Not from cold, They feel nothing
But I am sweating at Their approach
I'm being taken under
The swirl of emotion a twisted beauty
They hunger, the edges hunting
Anger stares in simple reproach
The unsaid words a thunder

Then again I'm lifted back
With rope tied as a hangmans noose
The reality of it all a painful smack
And again not knowing my use

I wake up to rain pouring
A welcome sight to my tired eyes
I take a walk to ease the pain
That sleeps closely in my mind
I look at the sky and feel I'm soaring
And think of how to cut my ties
Flying towards a shattered brain
A vision of my limp body outlined
I fear the Hands have come again
Pulling me towards Their howling den