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The dead walking around,
I think, as I climb these stairs.
A burden on their back
The naiveness in the air
How no one is aware of all the horrors
Roaming here and there.
Innocence is supposed to be a quality
But having it is what I fear
Brain washed by the society, we are
Murder for peace is actually sincere
Humans are here,
But where is the so called humanity?
Demons hidden underneath the flesh and skin
Like a poisonous berry
Nourished covering but noxious inside
We all abide by our pride
Our souls tied to the rhythm
As we breed and diffuse more demons
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YOU ARE READING
We Don't Belong
Poezja*she stared at the other side* Was it dark or was it light? She has to choose what is right, But the shadows are fading, as shadows don't form without no light. She has to see through her mind in which she has been captured, she has to fight her dem...
