POEM #8| Siren's Call

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TRIGGER WARNING

i am at a loss
My words flowing out
Of my mouth like a
Song that only I can hear

A poet I am, with a pen
Of pure steal
Writing the words so ideal
To the eyes of the world

I hear, the innocent cries
Of pure pain that tears
Our skin to pieces
Showering us in darkness

Sucking out the light
Like a vacum malfuction
No where to hide
Lost in the abyss of time

Yet she still grabs her pen
Writes the poems of sin
Closes her eyes to the silent
Melody that she only hears

The ink from her blood
Writes the words you will see
Feelings of great sadness
Stop you from speaking

A siren of words, you follow
To hear more of her beautiful song
The words strike deep into your
battered heart

Kept together from a small
String as blood drops
From her fingertips
Forming the ink

She is a writer
A poet, with painful words
She sins everytime her hand
Writes, to draw you in

Before you even realize
Her siren call has
taken you to
The edge of a clift

Looking over the
Sea of endless possibilities
Formed into words on the page
From a note book

Your too late
Shes captured you into
Her heartfelt song, her poems
Of pure sin, and heartbreaking
Pain

She is a poet
&
This is her song

Written By: Teha Brown aka WILTEDROSE213

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