_______________________
If lies are like a poisonous network,
Then maybe my source of breathing
is only by putting a rose to my grave.
I survive through my coffin
Put up as sheathing,
And smile through my dead face
Filled with all the happiness
One could give.
Filled with the features
As elegance is deceived
Has the charm,
The most lively I've ever been
But it is void of me.
If lies are like a poisonous network,
Then by now I'm laying dead,
Near my overdosed prevarication pills,
Thinking what could've been done instead..
_______________________
-R
YOU ARE READING
Sucking The Shades From The Shadows
PoetryA poetry collection filled with short poems. -Official description will be written after completion- Poetry.. It might be the language of the dead filled with the lively words of the beauty it exhibited during its time. Might be like a woeful ballad...
