There are times
when I lean over the lake
and look at the stillness.
I look at the reflection,
the inky blackness.
I watch the water as it stills beneath my gaze,
before throwing rocks with an unknown strength
at the surface to watch the ripples
just for the satisfaction of destroying something so serene.
YOU ARE READING
When The Blood Ran Black
PoetryWhen my demon decided it wanted out, there was nothing I could do to stop it. I could only watch as bloodied claws pierced my skin and shadows leaked through my eyes in black teardrops. It wanted out, and I was content to let it roam. >>>&g...
