From the shadows you arise,
Oh! it's mutiny in disguise,
it's bland that which you despise,
your remorse it's in-concise,
Oh! my hands are painted red,
from your treachery I've bled,
Nothing insolent to be said.
I'm not some creature to be bred,
still I fight your futile war,
not knowing what I wage for,
oh! it's you who I abhor,
you think you're mighty, and I'm poor?
No! don't be deceived, my crooked twin,
You're not the victor, you won't win,
though the prospects are crudely thin,
I'll conquer the evil within
YOU ARE READING
Intrepid whims of a timid mind
PoetryThese are some of my works which I wrote unsolicited, solely for the sake of putting pen to paper, hope you find solace in their gravity, or at least find them worth your time. Bear In mind, these are just experiments, I do not claim to have any exc...
