jamie-b-stewart

Death found what i hid,
in the shallow end of a dream,
in the seam of the deepest womb,
to scar the fairest wound,


inside the tomb the darkness wreaked,
while lucid horrors seep,
sleep, ignorant and unknowing,
that the creature is growing,
growing and never slowing,
knowing and never showing
that you bare the weight of owing
your existence to the thing you've been stowing

Pain it ****** and festers
the days fall like like pedals
into the sea of no remorse
for no one cares what runs its course
but it does with and without it's source