From Past and Now,
I think you've rued;
every time,
you think me fooled.
Now you may,
think me rude.
Regret is rising,
your doubts are trued.
No longer near,
we leave you here.
Bleeding, battered;
constant fear.
Your vocal chords,
are mine alone.
Now we siege,
and take your throne.
YOU ARE READING
Roses Bleed Blue || Poetry ||
PoetryI'm bored Yet my mind is racing My heart Can't keep up with inconsistent pacing I'm panicking They can't keep up with the chase and I'm looking But I can't find my wrist brace and If i were a card I wouldn't be an ace then It's suffocating All the...
