When it rains knives, throwing stars and arrows
I'd wander out into the haze so that my torn, pelted flesh would be washed away with follicles of shattered blades
And my spirit, would evaporate into the sky completing my transcendence into a god.
YOU ARE READING
Diary Of A Bludgeoned Soul
PoetryPerhaps sparks of compassion is flaring up in your veins, The qualities of a hero - surfacing A longing to save me, to end my pain If you're reading this, its probably too late For I am nothing but a bludgeoned soul
