How Villains are MadeA Poem by iTryToWriteAllTheTimeFlaming swords, Blazingly cold deserts Temptation creeping in from Both the bleeding tip of my blade and Shifting speckles of sand. To stretch out my betrayal of hope Into the universe, to let it know there is no tangible Forgiveness. Not from us. My knife chips and melts, Leading forward the rest of us who have done nothing wrong, But find ourselves wronged, and incentivized to wrong it forward. © 2024 iTryToWriteAllTheTimeAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthoriTryToWriteAllTheTimeDavenport, IAAboutI write poetry, trying to work my way into bigger things, but started with poetry. I've got a big catalogue I think of poetry I'd like to share. more..Writing
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