Loud Pøetry Spilled From The Quiet Soul

Part 89

The sound of running water,

The sight of crimson flowing down the drain,

The feeling of the demons cold hand carrying you to the end,

There whispers of darkness leaking into your bloodstream.

I cannot endure this pain any longer.

All I do is push everyone farther and

farther away as I sink deeper into my

world in which my brain has created.

I guess it's time to say goodbye and

Drift away...