Time and time this comes to mind, why let you get away with the murder of the gods, the desecration of my mind, of everything I hold dear, my very sanity, you've taken something dear to me and set it ablaze with your apathetic hatred, I'd spill the blood of any man woman or child just to hear your confession of this sin, this crime against my mind, anything to see you in the same hell I have been in, while I sit here and bleed my life away on the ground, my wrath is cold and edged with ice as I bide my time in this place, waiting, thinking of new and exciting ways of spilling the blood of my foe, you. The one I held dear for so long. Dearly beloved, will you die for me?
YOU ARE READING
Dark poetry
PoetryI started writing poetry a few months ago, and ever since have wanted to publish them for anyone to read. I do not stick to any specific genre of poetry, and often times I write in my own style, As I have found that writing traditional poetry never...
