To kill a soul,
To murder it with stories untold all the things the dark alleys are hiding.
The hand placed over mouths harshly, stopping the spill of words that need to be heard.
Dark nights that leave turmoil in their wake.
The Whipping of men and everything that shakes deaths hand and attacks the living.
Reaching hands that are never grasped as the shadows sink beneath the water.
Screams that surpass their covering
but yet there are no ears to hear them.
Scars among once porcelain pure flesh and even upon the darkest hues too.
These are things that kill a soul,
the unseen that does much more harm than recognized stories
for they are ghosts that are haunting so they may be set free.
Will they ever notice them too?
YOU ARE READING
Trio Of Words
PoetryPoetry from the corner of my little world. Another freestyle poetry book. "You finally saw that I was a puzzle piece that wasn't complete, but aren't we all when our emotions fall?" "So these are all things that keep playing back to me in poetry. A...
