959595A Poem by Wraith.silver streams, slivers of who i used to be coiling and frothing against arcs of skin Grey and black light clawed out beneath the storms rolled over til I couldn't see Chastise, solace comes not to those who grieve Working your way around blindly I'm faced with veiled idols whose orifices bleed White empty heads lined up in a row You didn't tell me there would be nowhere to go so breaking away from a black flaking door
© 2014 Wraith. |
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Added on December 9, 2014 Last Updated on December 9, 2014 AuthorWraith.warwickshire, United KingdomAbout“I have absolutely no pleasure in the stimulants in which I sometimes so madly indulge. It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that I have periled life and reputation and reason. It has been.. more..Writing
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