The monsters and creatures can smell your fear
Anger, hunger, chance of survival is quite mere
They see your pretty face, mouths dripping with foam
Collapsed, afraid, you've given up, but you can hear them roam
Adrenaline wasted, all hope is lost you cannot escape the dreadful leer
YOU ARE READING
Existentialism and poems
PoesiaHey guys! This is going to be a book full of just shit I feel like writing this will be, poems,and existential crisis stuff I guess :)
