Poetry can give an insight to the soul of the writer. Or the reader. Poetry can touch on the feelings you don't want to admit to, and those you wish you could celebrate. On life. On time. On what it is to be you.
Here's Pieces of Me, a poetic intros...
This home This place of wonder That all my demons Have torn asunder
This decadent place This timeless torment Where all I've had Becomes a haven't
Where helpless cries Are the only sound And all are meat For Hell's own hound
This land This home This place of strife
This life
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How does your life feel to you? Are you happy with it? Do you feel you've been torn apart and scattered over a barren landscape? Or are you building anew on the bones and ashes of your past, having beaten the demons into submission and come out of the battle so much stronger?
