Stop these unchaste feelings,
stop their hypocritical dealings,
stop these enraging emotions,
that make me poisoned potions;
for I cannot deal with their hatred,
I cannot deal with their fang;
I cannot deal with what they abated,
as I am guilty of no one to hang;
and I must adamantly flee,
away from these voices,
who try to take control,
over the span of my choices;
and I must seek refuge,
away from my cavern of madness,
lest I be the reason,
for this echoing song of sadness;
and I must continue to run,
because if not I do succumb,
and the war has already begun,
under the very tip of my thumb.
As alas it has been hard,
for me to be able to grasp,
hold the reason for this farce,
and the reason for this clasp;
and now my throat tightens,
underneath their fingers,
for when the moon lightens,
this ghostly thief lingers;
clutching my heart in its' hands,
whispering for me to meet its' demands,
for I cannot seem to control,
the actions my pretentious hands bowl;
because now my actions,
do not belong to me,
now they belong to the ones,
bellowing for me to see.
YOU ARE READING
Poesy of Eloquence
Poetry❝ this tragedy is soaked with tears that dry the ink in my hands. ❞ ━ the poesy I've yearned to release ever since I taught myself to pick up the pen and write. ❝ for if the painting of my words be the garden upon the gate of heaven, glimpse them...
