Cold

I was always empty Intentionally cold 

An icy shore where no passionate love could ever grow

Hell in the form of frozen raging glaciers consumed my reclusive soul

I would never settle for emotions foolery for they always waged war within me 

All the blunt blood drip dropping from these frosted ruins

Was carved,crafted,and molded by traitors who tore and trespassed 

Always taking more than they could give 

I killed who I was to stay alive

Let my loving fire dissipate info fizzled tragedy 

To avoid the catastrophe in which we call the art of feeling 

Nothing lasts when vindictive tongues lash

They turn you then proclaim your the one to blame for this negativity game 

 

Reviews

[alan peter kelly]

Kinda Gothic in places... You killed off someone, yet here someone is...impressing me with poetic architecture no dead hume could ever replicate...i see light in the dark...warmth in the coldest of ice... my heart is scarred charred chewed out and spat yet somehow it still beats and so long as it does I know anything is a distinct possibility...life...it can be shite on a stick....I abide it in hope something like extraordinary occurs...don't want to miss it...enjoyed...thank you for your exposure