Let my name speak of myself
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Death's Masterpiece
My own wrist is a masterpiece
Illustrating the art of pain that won't cease
Kept hidden far too long
Even my soul could not hold on
Everyday I pick up my brush
Gracefully gliding it across my skin
Anger and madness burning within
Drowning in sorrow with tears falling
Immobilized by too much trying
And tonight I shall pick up my brush
Now I shall paint 'til my last breath
A masterpiece created by death
mgrg 111416;12:07
BINABASA MO ANG
Damned Poems
PoetryWritten under the influence of broken hearts and promises. When the dawn is to come, that's when my poetry becomes war. A war between a broken heart and a fighting one. Damn, never have I thought it would be this hard.
