CensoriousA Poem by GZNever seen a person who's smile is not but curve, fake as a person who fakes to eat, containing venom like t'smoke of a cigarette in lungs, making it hard to breath. Happiness outside, professed words at daytime, but as soon as sun goes down, the Devil comes around, quietly waiting to hear the noise, to spread the virus - a decoy. As blood spilled blood, from blood to blood indeed, the red sea on the floor, on floor - on floor,is marked still. And no acid nor excuse, can justify that soup, nor Armageddon,nor final judgment - nor any of those final dues, will ever label thy person as good person in thy soul. As black is deep and dark, and the sheet of ink paper is marked, and thy ink - can't run in past. © 2014 GZ |
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Added on May 24, 2014 Last Updated on May 24, 2014 |