The Gothic Poetry

So called "past"

With my dreams crushed

And stained with bloody lies

I hold them with my bare hands

With the cuts that slithers trough my fingers

I am willing to sacrifice

I can be hopeless at times

But give me an inspiration

And I will fight for my rights

My bravery has been shattered

But I am willing to pick every piece

With the bones broken on my knees

Since it is better than cowardice

I will not let treachery

I will not let cruelty

I will not let hatred and judgement empower me

My instincts says I'll prosper

Between all my sobs and cries and bruise

But its something I'm willing to dare

After all, I have nothing else to loose

With my blood that wiped the carpet

With my eyes that bulged its feelings

With my thoughts lingering at the moment

With my heart that shrieks it's sings

I'll carry on with what I have

Turning my back on a so called "past"

With a new beginning resting on my palms

I'll live on without returning