When you own the soul of the dead
You are constantly possessed
Your heart is no longer of the color red
It is black as night and darkness
And the deepest darkest souls
It leaks none of kindness
Nothing to that aim
When you possess the soul of the dead
You are as empty as the depths.
YOU ARE READING
Depressing Poems
PoetryThx Dude for this outstanding idea I could not thank you more AKA WingedWarrior224
