Death of a poet

A poet died tonight
in a literary sense
he loaded up his pen
and not a bullet was spent
he bled out words
from his editorial wrist
for this is not your usual death
it's a rebirth with a twist
because i'm back in the saddle
ready to bleed
but this time i'm different
because it's nobody i need
spectators enjoy
my autopsy of this soul
because once i publish my heart-words
Death will claim his toll