I talk of cutting.
I talk of bleeding.
Full of sorrow.
Full of hate.
I dream of great things,
yet I live in horror.
I wish to be free
of the dark shadows enveloping me.
The thing that travels on
in the darkness of beyond
not living,
but yet, still breathing.
It claws at my soul
and I try to make it go.
I travel on my journey
but his power makes me weary.
Now I look him in the eye
and I hear his dreadful cry:
"I take over thee!"
And I yell back "Never will I set you free!"
In the dark
lives a beast.
It rests its eyes in a light sleep.
It makes you sit,
it lets the blood flow
out of the veins, through the slit.
It enjoys the pain.
It dines on sorrow.
Its happiness is not its gain.
There is of one thing
that I know,
the beast in the dark, it calls me home.
COMMENTS
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LaMuerta
02:18 Apr 27 2012
nice