· ༘ ➳〔wrath is my slave〕 ࿐࿔🖇
There's this beast buried inside me,
Hidden too deep for my enemy to see,
But I keep on feeding it to grow
With tears, anger, guilt, and sorrow.
'Tis a savage beast with no control,
One that burns and burns, to ashes with all!
For a while, I thought it would be my fall,
But I'm not afraid, not anymore.
Now the beast is walking beside me
With red glowing eyes, clenching its teeth,
And each time I crook a painful smile
The beast becomes me for a while.
Dark claws on my shoulders,
Hot breath down my neck,
I'll become what you'd never expect,
Crushing my Sisif's boulder.
The beast is getting more and more real
And, as I start to no longer care,
My wounds can finally heal
And I can beat the world's dare.
Now my foe can't stop watching,
While the clock struck nine,
And I couldn't help smiling,
'Cause I knew he knew the beast was mine.
YOU ARE READING
Of sweet and sour - poetry book
Poetry...and maybe sometimes words and paper are enough to heal a wounded heart
