I am but a ravenous wolf, hungry for something I should not crave, I hunger for the grave.
All of these things I crave will get me there, the grave.
Some are bad some are worse, I fear they are all the same.
I want to taste for a split second, just as a serpent sticks its jagged tongue out for the disaster of a world. Alas I know it is too much, the damage has been done.
Nothing can repay the gloming way I've swayed.
For alas I do not know, I fear I must go.
I am but a mere lamb eaten by a ravenous bear engulfed by the smell of his grizzly hair.
Torn into pieces as numbered as a shattered window. I lay there as my warm mucky guts spill out of me like a broken china cabinet.
Nothing more left as my abhorrent soul withers away to a deep dark pile o nothingness. Alone in the darkness, only to feel one final jagged shard tear through my god forsaken soul.
There is nothing.
YOU ARE READING
Wonderland poetry
PoetryThis book will be a collection of poetry made by me. A journey through sadness and happiness, and the abstract journey through wonderland.
