Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2017
You think you can't be saved
And that no one would adore you,
That if you are wretched, you cannot be divine.

But divinity is for the gods,
Oracles could not have forseen
What you would do to me.

That every word you speak
Would be a brazen network of fire in my ears,
And every breath of yours would be an arctic storm on my skin.
Written by
     ryn, Monotone and Jamadhi Verse
Please log in to view and add comments on poems