♡12|08|2022♡
(Death's POV)
Thy somber soul conquered the night, believe me not for a hurting heart is not alright. A broken damsel thou art, wrong is right for life's a hopeless fight.
If only I could, mend thy bleeding wound. If only I could, heal thy scars I would. Let my embrace be thy place for healing, as you sought solace in the midst of withering.
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Spilled Sentiments (On-Going)
PoetryPoetry is a journey and the poet is its voyager.