Some deaths up there
Shine more brightly than lives down here
And the silent line
Of skylit eyes parade
In the deepest nightmares
They dance, rejoice and glory over
The souls they have destroyed
And nothing is left for the victims.
Some deaths up there
Shine more brightly than lives down here
And the glass shatters in their hands
In time the slits will be scars
Of the war they are losing inside their minds
The knives cut them down, cut them down
They begin to crumble into dust
Until there is nothing but emptiness left.
YOU ARE READING
The Lost
PoetryThis is for those with the swollen, tired eyes. This is for those who wake up every morning and cries. This is for those who are abused at home. This is for those who feel isolated and alone. This is for those who have attempted/have committed suici...
