A nervous little laugh,
As the mirror hits the floor,
The chaotic kind of planning,
Leaving the insanity craving more.
Reckless in every way but one,
The swordplay,
Standing on the edge,
Daring to jump on the monster's say,
But only if I get the last word.
Living for the hidden thrill,
The secret passions and acts,
It's like I don't want to go free,
Almost addicted to the painful past,
The nature of being anonymously famous.
So may the years stay bitter,
And the socialists stay liars,
Let the outcasts keep on living,
And have the silent considered listeners.
YOU ARE READING
The Vigilante Of Clockwork
PoesiaWhat have I ever had to say? Thank you all for reading. -Victoria xX
