Broken and battered,
Out in the cold,
My fingertips are turning blue.
Even still,
I refuse to go crawling back
To you.
Yes, the nights are long
And hard,
But temptation is no stranger to me.
Much like you,
The Devil calls me-
Oh, the Devil, temptation and you?
Such an unholy trinity.
All of you want to use me,
Abuse me,
Keep me enslaved until the
Very end of time...
It's unfortunate, really,
That I've seen through the deceit.
I won't come back: I've realised
That you don't love me.
YOU ARE READING
Refraction.
PoetrySo many aspects, colours and themes make up our experiences. Truly, is anything entirely good or entirely bad? Upon weighing up the positives and negatives of the past, do we not admit that even tragedy is- in a twisted sort of way- advantageous? O...
