Dear Lord,
Help me, for I didn't know W H Y .
This inside reminiscent that commences this C R Y .
The thought leaves me disgusted of how it had occurred; persuaded innocence and skewed intentions. My reasoning blurred.
Now, repenting this curve--that I had took.
Forcing sealed lips and scrubbing away the indentions that were made into the hips--that left one to feel used, as I sunk deeper.
Inside reminiscent of hollowed
thoughts that
/ \
/ \
| |
| house the soul of its reaper |
| |
| |
It had become endless of how many times I had called to the sky.
Where thy father laid, hearing my cry, yet it's like I can't escape from this burdened fate--that I misplaced--myself within.
Mistaken and disappointed by such sin--I had committed.
I was tainted ridden.
Unfulfillment of words to describe this regret, guilt, and pain. Images of those that continue to rouse my brain. I want to scream for I can't explain. I weep, pull my hair, bite my restraint--s as if I'm going insane.
HELP ME!
Help me.
Help me.
Help me.
I hug myself as the ground starts to devour it's person, a hollowed reflection.
This
darkened
light
and
deep
consumption
of
depression.
I pray though.
Living days with a joyous smile.
However, it tauntingly sits and chips away little by little.
This inside reminiscent of empty detection.
أنت تقرأ
P.O.E.T.R.Y
الشعرPo•et•ry /poh-i-tree/ noun 1. the art of rhythmical composition, written or spoken, for exciting pleasure by beautiful, imaginative, or elevated thoughts. 2. literary work in which special intensity is given to the expression of feelings and ide...
