Titles are Overrated

Part 61

Drinking holy water,

choking on my own

corruption.

Dewdrops of despair

trickling down

my cheeks,

the wind

staining them

like colourless glass;

sorrow truly does sting.

You can see 

right through me

and the starry-eyed stare.

The stars are burning,

falling and exploding

from all the fear.

My shoulders shake

and my knees buckle

by my own betrayal. 

Screaming

and sobbing,

but all I hear

is deafening silence.

You fall to your knees

and pull me close,

whispering sweet everythings

whilst all I hear

are terrible nothings. 

the voice of a devil