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Literature Text
Slowly, i fade...
... unable to become free,
I fall into darkness and shadows.
Save my the hand of God...
I ally both I hate life and
the enviable death.
Life is a messed-up dream,
a cold hearted coma
when you realize you place
and watch you life pass you by
you will know what a waste you were
... unable to become free,
I fall into darkness and shadows.
Save my the hand of God...
I ally both I hate life and
the enviable death.
Life is a messed-up dream,
a cold hearted coma
when you realize you place
and watch you life pass you by
you will know what a waste you were
Literature
Insanity.
Running up and down the halls,
Never looking back but never looking forward.
Screaming, crawling, clawing,
The worst case they have seen yet.
The voices in my head,
The writing on the wall.
It's enough to make you scream,
It's enough to make you weep.
Crawling on the walls,
Scribbling blood on the floor.
Spelling out the voices in your head,
Insane, you're all Insane.
Come and join this fun filled house,
We welcome you and your guests.
The sane are not welcome,
But the insane, well....you're already dead.
Literature
2 depressing poems
Falling
I am falling
Into the endless night
Of darkness.
Things rush by me as I fall,
A wilted flower,
A ruined child's toy,
Still I fall forever
I am falling,
Not knowing where;
Or when;
Or why.
All I know is the darkness,
And the shadows.
Still I fall forever.
I am falling,
I open my hand,
Eyes straining in the black light,
My palm is streaked with blood.
I recoil, clench my fist hard,
With blood soaked fingers.
And still I fall forever.
I am falling,
My soul – like a caged bird,
But no bars to hold me,
No locks to keep me.
I must endure the pain,
Of eternal captivity.
And still, I fall forever..
Dying Soul
As
Literature
Blood
I skim my fingers across the gash
smiling, i see it again, it all went CRASH!
i giggle a little, and lick the stain
oh don't worry, I'm not going insane
my love for it, that thick crimson blood
has gotten me all warm inside, not wanting to hide
i just love the smell, of that hot liquidy paste
almost as much, as i love its crisp salty taste
you may think im crazy, but i assure you I'm not
I'll just sit and stare, as u silently rot
I wont kill you yet, not till you bleed
and i am finally done, with my last deed
Suggested Collections
poems from the worst o' times
© 2008 - 2024 FadedAlakast
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