This pain,
This excruciating pain.
It consumes my thoughts,
My dreams,
My life.
.
This pain,
This wretched pain.
There's no escape,
No release.
For it lives in my mind,
And will haunt me to the day I die.
.
This pain,
This never ending pain.
I cannot escape,
But Death tempts me.
For in Death,
My pain is gone.
.
This pain,
This convincing pain.
With a blade in one had,
And a noose in the other,
What to use, oh what to use.
Perhaps I'll start with the vein...
.
This pain,
Oh, This murderous pain.
It has claimed one more life tonight
You're afraid it is I...
And you were right.
YOU ARE READING
Clouds of Thought
PoetryPoetry is beautiful. Poetry isn't always clear. Poetry can be dark, or light, depending how you feel. Poetry derives from people's innermost thoughts and feelings, formed when one is Lost in the Clouds of Thought. Spiritual ~ #37 Poetry ~ #112
