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Rated: 13+ · Other · Tragedy · #1365006
a poem, dark, lonely and bloody I think
Droplets of rain cascades across my lonely face
Sorrow lies deep within my demonized soul
Forgetfulness is caste aside and can not enter
Melancholy rests within me, lethargic, greedy
Yet, I can not anger myself into this wonderful emptiness
Tears non-existent begs to exit, yet they stay silent
Wonderful truths escape me, leaving me with naivety
December winds whipped wildly around my silent figure
The cold air stings me, robbing me of my own warmth
The battle inside me is slowly dying, I’m losing
I think I’m lost in the picture of perfection or obsession
I’m losing in this world of beauty, perfection and fairytale
There is no such thing is there?
Is there no such thing as a fairytale or beauty?
Is perfection ultimately doomed from the beginning
Is their such a thing?
I might never know, no, I won’t know
Droplets of sleet is icy against my ski
I no longer see the blue in front of me, calming me
All I see now is grey, so sad and grey
My gorgeous blue is gone, grey is all I see
Is this the end of my suffering or rather is this the beginning
Of my fortunate end?
I wonder as snowflakes drift from the sky as it gently meets
My red silent stream of tears fall, they fall so beautifully
In this beautiful yet ugly world
As innocent snowflakes meets with a river or my red
A long stream of red blood
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