shards of glass lay scattered,
your hands bore gory deeds of the night,
a sinister feeling lay inside,
yet I chose to hold on.
drunken revelry' now a massacre, of
the self and soul, both washed ashore
words now trembled, too afraid to
spring, chose to perish,
for what might befall.
the quill was an ally, now a foe,
the ink too dry to leave an imprint upon.
Amidst the surrender of self, everything
else gave away, but
thoughts to rebel, still found a way.
refused to concede to a feudal lord.
Maybe they'll liberate my broken soul,
or maybe,
one day, they too shall surrender to my feudal lord.
Sep 17, 2016
Sep 17, 2016 at 5:34 AM UTC
shards of glass lay scattered,
your hands bore gory deeds of the night,
a sinister feeling lay inside,
yet I chose to hold on.
drunken revelry' now a massacre, of
the self and soul, both washed ashore
words now trembled, too afraid to
spring, chose to perish,
for what might befall.
the quill was an ally, now a foe,
the ink too dry to leave an imprint upon.
Amidst the surrender of self, everything
else gave away, but
thoughts to rebel, still found a way.
refused to concede to a feudal lord.
Maybe they'll liberate my broken soul,
or maybe,
one day, they too shall surrender to my feudal lord.
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