Bless thy be with your sweet ignorant bliss for the worse is yet to come.
No burden in my heart, and he shall still crush it with no trouble.
Sweet ignorance lays in his warm wicked lips, those seen like candles at night.
Devourer, all-consumer, reminiscent of the sun.
His warmth still here remains long after he's gone.
A beautiful man with sinful lips, a powerful figure with a gentle touch.
Ah. Sing me a lullaby wicked man for your lips have sinned enough today.
The rumble of your chest is enough chaos for me today. Let my head lay here tonight, and I'll be gone before first light. Lest let me bask, and I promise I'll be gone before first light.
YOU ARE READING
My Sad Angry Little Poem Book
DiversosA venting journal that is seen, but not known.
