Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2018
I don't possess the luxury to feel alive

This broken soul is daunted by mired ties

The shell that holds these withered bones and stinted cries

Stains rotten with guilt underneath
this tainted flesh; will ultimately be my surmise
Axion Prelude
Written by
Axion Prelude
522
   Persephone
Please log in to view and add comments on poems