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ruorou Feb 2015
vicious revenge feel its strain.
Engrained forever on a decaying brain.
For its a plague with no andetote. No cure.
Nothings sacred. nothings pure.
No honor here to gain but a grasp of guilt, sorrow and pain.

A trench deep seated with animosity.
Hearts too blinded by hatred to see.
Its walls engulfing like vines round a tree.
But no vegeance shall set you free.

In realising its errors and fate
The soul desperately searches to escape.
Weary, hollow, it longs to retire
But hatred enslaves as its walls grow higher

For this is one prison sentence that will never transpire..
If you fight fire with fire.
ruorou Feb 2015
Dictators, emperors, kings.
Glorified idols, politicians & puppets on strings.
ruorou Feb 2015
I can still hear the rhythm of your nature in the beating of my heart.
wings of a hummingbird.
Feel your bruising touch against my skin. like wind and rain on a winters day.
I still feel the touch that shook my bones, with all the subtlety of a freight train in the early morn.
I still smell you, pungent and potent but soothing as lavender.
I can still see your eyes burning me, every galaxy and constellation in your stare.
I can no longer taste you on my lips. Bitter. Replicated. The poignant reminder.
ruorou Feb 2015
Her eyes are red.
My bodys blue.
She speaks her truth but lies so true.
She's guilty.
I confess all to you.

I wont learn to hate her
It's her i adore.
Tongue like a blade.
She wont cease to implore.

straight to bed with the thoughts in her head.
A tale of love versus lust.
Rotten.
Decomposing to dust.

Spitefully twisted, her razor like wit.
Spilling her abuse like a sickly *****.

I lap it up even though I know I shouldn't.
I should've cut this tie but I knew I couldn't.

A journey unrelenting, destined to fail.
She'll bury me deep with this finally nail.
Digging my grave through winter wind and hail.
Poisoned by her beauty.
And the sting in her tail.
ruorou Feb 2015
Through the ages of the stars.
I forgot my history.
My heart gave in to wanderlust.
Its harrowing mystery.
Chasing dragons was my muse.
My game.
Forged by the serpents.
They still hiss my name..

— The End —