Hopes of a future never to come pass.
Cutting of thread leaving a trail of red.
Comforting lies, take on vengeance’s plasse.
Callow certainty leading my bloodshed.
Essence refusing change, oil and water.
Dripping maroon, satisfies my sweet tooth.
Lost track of my goal, now it's a slaughter.
Enciphered desire, immiscible youth.
As I let go sorrow’s waters -- forlorn,
See me with your purest eyes, unerring
Touch of a mother’s hand, I am reborn.
Sins, a raven’s coat, heavens are glaring.
And as I lay my vision ridden red,
How foolish to lead to one’s own bloodshed.
this is my first sonnet (I did it without the iambic pentameter because I'm still learning)