By: Shadleen.
Title: Blood, Life, Death, Fears, Tears, Sorrow.
Blood, is such a beautiful thing, badness when people begin, to see, it, as a symbol of death. yet again death is not something i repent. I. Just. Might. Give. In. Some. Bliss. To. Demons. Of. Death.
People always come and go, this is how the story of life goes. We born we live we die. I dont mind this, this is how everyone lies.
Life is a pleasure, yeah right. my life is a hell, my life is a shadow, someone has cast some sortof spell. Im stuck, in my moment of battle. Why is there this knife to my neck? Why arent i scared? Am i a fool or am i just brave? Or even, do i want it this way?
When. I. Fall. I Fall. Alone.
When. I. Grive. No. Body. Knows.
When. I. Die. No. One. Cries.
This. Is. My Life. This. Is. my Stive. This. Is. My. Time.
What's left for me at my home, i feel so alone. I dont see any point in living anymore. Life is a stuggle, battle for breath. There is always heartache stuck in my chest. Who can i open up to? Who do i fully trust? I have so many problems but i just shut up.
Im always tired, i always want to sleep. I want to fight but im giving all my might to stay awake, to stay away, from the reeper of death. Where is my guarden angel? its never been there, unless it's the Angel of Death.
I want to cry, but i dont see why, i thought i was meant to hate myself passionately. I feel the repper of death creeping up on me, where can i hide? This thing as like a million eyes, seeking out for my blood and ties.
At least i wont hear no more lies, no more fears, no more tears. Why do i fight this? It seems so right. Am i scared, worried that no one would remember me? Would i be missed or would no one give a shit.
