Poem 1 this ain't cheery trust me read at own risk

135 9 8

i wrote this in my goth years (2 years)

I have lost my muse

wings stripped away

creativity lost, and minds thrown forth

all that remains is any empty soul,

filled with despair throughout

the morrow that most cannot await.

could be forgotten by all

Shadows found where light hid

and a sorrow discovered in joy.

Souls of light and dark, fued to control truth, and i await

to be devoured by darkness...

The wind whispers the names,

the water carries the souls,

and the earth caresses the bodies.

The end is a sight

none wish to allow.