Buried deep in the blood
are the ties that bind us.
It's a dangerous path
that cast shadows
on the truth, but in the
darkest hour we were lairs
that couldn't trust each other.
I think these words while
the rope that tied our
bond was cut because
you were too busy chasing
shadows to see the
scissors in my hands
and the smirk on my face.
Now you are dead.
Yes, it is the darkest
hour indeed, brother.
YOU ARE READING
Dear: Hell
PoesiaThe 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.
