I wax poetic
diving into the dark
wallowing, in the shade
finding reprieve
words, like a mark
always there, to deceive
Pushing the limits
I'll hold all the glass
shards, that bite to the bone
flesh that remains
clogging the pass
for of my demons, contained
Spare me the pity
my bed has been made
sheets the color of blood
damning the screams
as sins, virtues, been weighed
holding the gates, of the
flood...
Feb 29, 2024
Feb 29, 2024 at 7:47 PM UTC
I wax poetic
diving into the dark
wallowing, in the shade
finding reprieve
words, like a mark
always there, to deceive
Pushing the limits
I'll hold all the glass
shards, that bite to the bone
flesh that remains
clogging the pass
for of my demons, contained
Spare me the pity
my bed has been made
sheets the color of blood
damning the screams
as sins, virtues, been weighed
holding the gates, of the
flood...
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