Crackling fire engulfing me,
Twirling all around.
Hot Iron shackles bind me,
Caging me in; Raging me in.
None knows what place I've come to,
Knows what has become of the old me.
What was once a piece of me,
The innocent, pure one
Has turned vengeful;
And the sinister scabbard?
Turned the master of hellfire
They say there is good in the world.
That the best is within you;
But what if all I see is the darkness seeping in?
Lurking in my aura,
As bright as the dead stars above.
When I peer in,
Why do I hear only my screeching and wailing?
Smell nothing but burnt skin and ashes?
And feel solely the lashes of red-hot whiplings?
None perceive me for who I am,
Only be deceived of what is seen.
None ever did fathom nor stayed long enough to.
And now here I rot;
Burning, terrified of becoming the hell's daughter.
Trying hard to get these shackles off me.
Trying in vain to control this rancour.
Crying a need for succour.
Hoping for someone to come,
Take this agony and misery away,
Far and Forever.
YOU ARE READING
Rosé Cacti
Poetry"See the war inside of her Of the heart and the soul Deadlier than that of the heart and mind. She laughs, She conceals; She cries, She writes; All that the heart wants, she gives And the soul is fed with fake promises. She flourished her wilting ro...
