With the thrust of this knife
comes the lust of this blood.
Streaming, staining,
the steel kiss of the blade.
Deepening the lacceration.
Mutilation.
Suffocation.
Suicide.
Death penalty holds my name,
punishing me to my selfish, shameful
end.
Dying on the inside.
Burning.
Screaming.
Crying.
Bleeding.
Thick red,
filling,
spilling,
over my sad, sick, thoughts.
Thrust--thrust
Lust--lust
All ends in
tragedy's dust.
Condemned and damned,
bearing the chains of darkness.
Clenching.
Suffocating.
A lost soul.
Stripped from my name,
my soul is darkness' claim.
Thrust--thrust
Lust--lust
All ends in
tragedy's dust.
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Diary of the Midnight Rider
Only a meager glimpse into the wanderings of my mind, and the works that such wanderings create when written with a pen.
Editors note: Many of these poems, and thoughts, come without a date; however most of these aren't too recent. Alot of this st
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Toga IV
Community Member |
