Nameless Sin

She was a fragile verse

Beauty became a curse

Dressed up in distain

Perfume with the scent of pain

Eyes gave off the feeling of annoyed

Searching for something to fill her void

Stitched down and framed

Gone without a name

She was more then I could see

She bled through and colored me

Such a victim to terrorize

And a feeling I can’t recognize

But the fateful conclusion

Is that she is an illusion

She is a picture that was never painted

Trapped in a mind forever tainted

She is a master and a slave

Born into her own grave

She carries my torment

Her reality left bent

She is my built up sin

Breathing underneath my skin

My one pure flaw

And my memories law

My wrong and my right

Morning and my night

A captive without a choice

My inner voice

But the sadden conclusion

Is that she is an illusion

 

 

Reviews

[~*~Peace Keeper~*~]

I really enjoyed reading this.
Great Job

[Bloody_Stars]

I love this alot. It was sad but true. We all create someone else in our minds. :)

[LeDiisco]

[LisetteCanWrite!]

This was really good.. showing a portrayal of one trapped in their own facade being an illusion possibly. Each person has keys to so many potential doorways.. as we get older we fool ourselves (is it really fooling though?) that the keys and doorways are becoming less and less.. potential dwindling.

This writing was universal.. it can be one thinking of themselves or of another person who is possibly close to them.. either way we are all captive to our own skin and environment to some extent if we believe it! Great rhythm, rhyme and flow.. many great lines in this.

[Emily]

I loved this poem, it was well written and it flowed well. Keep up the good work

[annaXP]

you are a great writer. keep up the good work hun.

[deeps]

I really enjoyed this write here. I thought this was wonderfully written. The flow is just so wonderful.

[MagiCrystal]

But the fateful conclusion

Is that she is an illusion

She is a picture that was never painted

Trapped in a mind forever tainted... Sometimes we as poets...
we write all over our souls.. and them.. pen and paper on hand..
makes us.. write.. what we pictured in life.
And that to me is the most artistic mind.. magical..
A voice that the wind takes to no mail boxes.. only to minds
that can read.. an Illusion that speaks loud.. this is amazing.. love it

[Reks]

Once again your words have helped me from holding that piece of metal over my hand. Keep it up, just might save my life.

[Darruesh Eetraydes]

haha lil brother you have done it again. its amazing