What a powerful thing. Something so strong turned so fragile.
A double edge sword with its finest blade sharpened to pierce the heart on a moments notice.
I found one girl, but she was coated in poison.
Slowly but surely I fell to her dagger of deathning silence.
When I wake, she was gone. All that's left is a scar
I found another sword, she was a dull blade. Round and cute, but the more we spoke the sharper she became.
She never stabbed, but she poked and prodded. Leaving cuts and scratches all over.
Then there comes another blade.
Wounds barely healed yet I pick up another sword to go to battle with.
This time she was sharp from the start. A fool I was to stay but I could not look away.
As if it's cut from diamond her hilt was sharp to the touch. An impossoble blade but I waste my time anyway.
Love is a fools battle, and I am the jester.
YOU ARE READING
My 99 Thoughts
PoetryJust a collection of original poems written by me as well as elaborated thoughts. Swear its not bad. Maybe, idk. Some suggestive themes so fair warning.
