The Black Rose
The withered petals
Fading away slowly
The shady world beneath me
The darkness falls upon
I see the dark stream of blood
Slowly trickling down
The cry of the souls I hear
The gloom of the black rose is handed down
The city vanishes
With it, me too
Happiness
Do you think it really exists?
The thing that people look for
They say you will find it one day
But I still don't know how
I've searched the earth day and night
Trying to prove them right
But have you really seen it though
Cause all I know so far
Happiness does not exist for sure
YOU ARE READING
Bottomless Pit
PoetryThis is a book of short poems that I occasionally write. They don't really have a specific type, just random emotions that I feel are portrayed here.
