You, my darling was a simple child
with death in their hands.
Printed words were law.
They toyed with your mind
making you think, believed
that you were filled with sin
Till death do us apart.
Us? The bible,
God and haven
and you; holding hands
through life and after.
You lived to serve.
Sacrifices had to be made,
Knees were bruised
Hands held nothing,
all for the words from God.
YOU ARE READING
Dear: Hell
PuisiThe elevator broke now death played with you all night. - Hell's Deal ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Sometimes monsters are real, sometimes Hell is fictional, but both have impacted many lives. So, take seat with some coffee and enjoy this poetry collection.
