And the devil gave me wings, so I could fly to him, whenever he wanted.
He made me think of them as freedom, peace, just to show that he could take it, them, away as he pleased, for he was and is my lord, my master.
And the devil liked to rip the pretty wings out of my back, so I would think I was dying, till he healed me, held me close in his arms, whispering apologies.
And now I fly again, to obey his wish and need, till he throws me out again.
Until the next time.
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Notes:
Again, about Jason the toymaker and Zalgo LMAO
YOU ARE READING
Poetry, from the back of my mind
PoetryA collection of poems I write in my free time. No specific theme, but the title will usually say the theme lol. (No scheduled updates, will update whenever I write a new one because yea.) :D
