"afflication" poems
Its never a thing.
Its never just something.
It makes you cry endlessly.
When you think you are timeless, you become ephemeral.
Every collection of agony, anguish and afflication become a harrowing hole.
A bleeding heart is constructed from the dew of a beautiful nightmare.
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 8:30 PM UTC