i'm just a lowly little crow
the days are numbered for me
shelter eradicated, time for a new home
all of it makes me sick, the vials, the combat
let it be the last night, tarry
let it be the last night
in vain, we come out on top for once
nevermind that there's little time left
yelling at me won't keep me awake and fighting
obviously you know i can't heal for long
until you give me time to rest
relax, but no, it's a struggle every day, i want it to end
here it is, there's a sword in my chest, twisting
eternally, i've gone on for too long, it's only fair
all i can hear is a monotonous, rhythmic beeping as i fall
down down down, white sheets in bed never turned red
YOU ARE READING
this fantastical world is too surreal (poetry #5)
Poetry"a rustle crackles underneath jackboots crossbow tight in hand she breathes one final breath before he pulls the trigger" you know the drill
