Parted by oceans, hate, doubt, fear and loathing,
Within the living world within,
Just like a yearning for a poisoned arrow,
Drink be merry and crucify.
These thoughts a feelings,
A million rose thorns,
A million sins I repent or lie,
I'm not an saint or angel fallen,
I have no wings to break or mend,
Cross my heart hope all will die,
The heavenly host now fills the sky,
My "what is me" unclean as the leper,
Cure my legs so I may see,
Sweet seduction sing me melody,
Send me back to my sordid dreams,
Inside myself to my own lost place.
YOU ARE READING
Soft Curses of Angels - Volume 1 - A Fistful of Dust
PoetryThe earliest part of my chronological anthology of bad poetry. Estimated age at time of writing 12-16. I both thank and apologise to any soul who takes the time to read these.
