Not again, I promised myself,
Knowing I would break it soon,
So I found myself overthinking
This lovely, lonely afternoon.
The sun said her usual goodbye,
So the moon watched over me,
All he did was gave me thoughts
And a bottle as a treat.
The demon in my favourite glass
Laughed as I swallowed my pain,
Told me I'm weak, can't stand it,
And his blood slave I became.
YOU ARE READING
Written by the Wind
PoetryIf things get too terrible to speak them out loud, that's when I start writing.. A compliation of my german and english poems. //Eine Zusammenstellung meiner deutschen und englischen Gedichte. Don't read it if you're easily triggered. These poems am...
