Lost in the dark,
Just a thick fog in your mind.
Though it's just a mist,
it's so cold that it stings
leaving you cut open and bleeding.
You cry out,
begging for help,
begging for the end.
The end of the fog.
A stop to the bleeding.
An end to pain.
An end to life.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Soul
PoetryThese poems are how I vent, they come from my problems and help keep me alive.
