It is Hell for you.
I'm told to stay.
You have lips near my neck.
A season so known for rest.
Feeling free without appetite.
A human man without a brother.
Without a womb to cradle.
I'm unloved by your father.
I'm alive.
It is a slow descent.
Rest easy knowing your noose is pulling me down.
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 3:39 AM UTC
It is Hell for you.
I'm told to stay.
You have lips near my neck.
A season so known for rest.
Feeling free without appetite.
A human man without a brother.
Without a womb to cradle.
I'm unloved by your father.
I'm alive.
It is a slow descent.
Rest easy knowing your noose is pulling me down.
Tragedy
