There were no screams of pain,
Nor burning acidic rain.
It wasn't hot like the dessert,
And the thorns sticking out hadn't hurt.
Am I not in hell,
Is this what heaven is?
But no way would heaven have burning fire pits.
But no way would hell not be as torturous as it is.
Realization struck me,
Could it actually be?
Either way, I needed to get free.
YOU ARE READING
✨Escapril ✨ § poems and shorts §
Poetry🔅The smell of rotten apples filled the house, as Toga lay dead. 🔅 Hey guys! This is a collection of poetry and short stories for the escapril challenge (prompts from @letsescapril on Instagram) so I will be posting a chapter for every day or so of...
