Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 22
Channel the grace
Feel the pace
I stood in their place
I thought I recognized the space.

Shiny isn't always gold
Or so I've been told
And death truly is bold
Grabbed my soul and turned it cold.

Got sold sins painted as dreams
Had to have it by any means
I let him have my soul
Only one of us is getting old.

My voice as a weapon
Loaded guns with demons I couldn't let on
And I'll show you hell and fire
It's now, not just a desire.
Written by
QueenOfTheAshes
277
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems