Evil is the cemetry where the one who's dead turns to haunt the rest
Kind is the cemetry where the one who's haunted turns to save the dead
Evil is the ant line where the one who bit turns to blame the lost
Kind is the ant line where the one who's bit turns to guide the lost
God is the one who kills the kind to save the crippled kind of world
Satan is the one who kills the crippled-kind world to save the one
Love is the cigarette where the one who's burnt turns to squish his parliement
Hate is the cigarette where the one who's burnt turns to fire his parliement
Truth is the pill where the ill swallows the bittermint
Lie is pill where the bittermint swallows the pill
That's the dichotomy of dread,
A sardonic silhouette
YOU ARE READING
Harrowing Hiraeth: Suicide note that I never wrote
Poetry.・゜゜・✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*.・゜゜・ 𝗛𝗶𝗿𝗮𝗲𝘁𝗵 : longing for a home which never existed A poetry collection of obscure sorrows, of longing, solitude, nostalgia, healing and trauma. .・゜゜・:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*.・゜゜・ ᴅɪsᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ -> This poetry...
