You might have inflicted scars on my face,
But know that its on your soul the mark remains indelible
You might have made me shed countless tears,
But know that each time it tore your soul,
Bit by bit,
Humanity fades.
Spreading lies, releasing sighs,
Screaming nice, dreaming cries,
Fighting in your fantasy,
Honing your skills on me,
An entertaining punching bag, wasn't I?
Your day will come soon,
So rest well till that noon
You might get away with carving ruins on me,
But you can't escape the blackness devouring your veins
The branches rush to fill the trunk,
Anytime now, you'll reap what you sowed.
YOU ARE READING
A budding writer's collection
PoesíaJust a bunch of poems written as and when I feel to write them
