This knife is cold
This soul is old
This was never gold
But a story is still foretold
The sacrifice happens at midnight's nigh
A tension so thick, no birds fly
The howl echo at the full moon's high
Traversing the brush as there is an echo of an eagle's cry
Blood runs warm and thick
A soothing pitter-patter, dripping off a broken stick
The soul's smile is twisted and thick
Swiping up some blood, they take a lick
A murderous intent, a shiver in the dark
The soul hungers for blood like a shark
They are angered without another sacrifice, much like a spark
Their anger reaches an arc
They kill heedlessly, hungry and mad
On their transparent face, this soul is bad
They are slain, choked just a tad
And forever more, the soul is glad
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Poems And Quotes
PoetryThis is a collection of poems and quotes from a time in a teenager's life when she thought she had nothing. In reality, the world had given her everything she had ever wanted; a family, a lover, a friend. She's no longer there, not anymore, but she...
