Why do demons crave the innocence they see?
Craving soft addictions, perhaps it is better
To make up for what was lost
With things that have never been had before
Fear grips my mind and shatters it
While my body forgets itself,
Sinking deeper into his dangerous embrace
My heart beats slower, harder, stronger
My soul craves for something else
Something that cannot be seen
Still, I listen to the sound of hunger
It rumbles through him, and I pray
The warmth of another person
Overpowers my senses
The sound, the scent, the taste
Is gentle and sweet, I feel weak
Time is too short, time is my saviour
Despite it all, a part of me, desperately
Wants to take some of it with me
And, he let's me
YOU ARE READING
Scratches On My Gravestone
PoetryA collection of poems written by little ol' me, created to be discovered, but not remembered.
