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Literature Text
Sink into your shadows, sinner
Breaking the vows you lied to keep
Spit at the face you kissed
With your venomous lips
Roll in the dirt you can call a home
And contort your limbs to a dance
In tempo to Death's march
You coward.
You conniving fool.
I wish to burn you from every memory
To retain my happiness longer
Yet if not for your entrance
I would not know pain
And therefore
From what I should avoid
Breaking the vows you lied to keep
Spit at the face you kissed
With your venomous lips
Roll in the dirt you can call a home
And contort your limbs to a dance
In tempo to Death's march
You coward.
You conniving fool.
I wish to burn you from every memory
To retain my happiness longer
Yet if not for your entrance
I would not know pain
And therefore
From what I should avoid
Number two on this writer rush of short poems. It's practically a year's worth that will be rolling in. This is one of the many angry poems that will make their entrance, but I'm in a better mood than I was practically a year ago. ^ ^
© 2011 - 2024 Blak-image713
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