A splash of red,
A glint of steel,
A background of black,
A paintbrush of gold.
I'm on my bed,
The pain I feel
Is coming back,
Lies are getting old.
Inside I'm dead,
This isn't real,
A heart attack,
Leaves my body cold.
YOU ARE READING
Musings of the Insane
PoetryThis is more or less a sequel to Nightmares, only this one will mostly be freestyle poetry. The same warning applies to this one. Also, if easily triggered, do not read, please. Thanks and enjoy.
