These are two of my most recent poems. As you can see the subject of both are a little bleak and despressing. They are a bit of a reflection of myself and what goes on in my head. At the moment both are untitled.
I die inside a little every day.
Waiting, watching.
A shade of desperation flashes across my eyes.
I'm a shell of myself,
Empty.
Silence cuts me like a knife.
Digging into flesh white hot.
My voice strangled choking gasps.
Rusts of red my dying strife.
Light of day turn to night.
Violent death to me delivered.
 Crimson Crucifixion · Mon Jul 03, 2006 @ 08:07pm · 0 Comments |
