spiralling, spiralling, spirallingA Poem by winter;lyra
everyone is down
spiral form despair like something's in the air but no demon beneath my bed you'll find that's one that hides right through your veins like a pessimist's wet dream he's shy of introductions you know him truly well that scentless carcass makes days of your strains pain, famine, a mild migraine name your game and let it stay and hold your grave while you take your break unknowingly brave as if there was an escape © 2019 winter;lyra |
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Added on April 27, 2019 Last Updated on April 27, 2019 Author
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