Under the pain of red clouds
Holding blood I wish not to see
A tear on my face is found
For there is a demon inside me
It whispers to me at night
When all the world is silent
And tells me not to fight
As it begins to get violent
Screams rip from my throat
Only no sound is heard
I tear at the note
But the music is blurred
The thought of dying
Becomes overwhelming
But I keep on trying
As the angels begin to sing
Death is near, they shout
As their wings come corrupted
From their heads, horns sprout
And my thoughts become morbid
Under the pain of red clouds
Holding blood I wish not to see
A tear on my face is found
Hoping that you won't forget me
YOU ARE READING
Life and Its Discrepancies
PoetryThis book is filled with poems from every range of my emotions, from when I'm super depressed to when I can't be happier. I don't know how long I'll keep this thing going, just know that it covers a bunch of personal things that may be considered a...
