My hungers so deep
It stabs at my soul
Rips my heart from my
Undead body
Leaving me
Breathless
And knowing of the things I have done
I am no angel
I don't do nice
Leave me with my pain
Why try and save what must be broken
This is my pattern
So leave me withering
To my known fate
Don't pity me
It would be a disgrace
Sometimes I see what others do not want to see
Sometimes we fight so hard
We forget our ultimate demise
Whether it be in the confined shadows of the night
Or the welcoming light
We are disposable
We wish to believe we are kind
But everyday we are blind
We hide with fancy words and our actions are not deemed worthy for the sins of our kind
We are nothing in a world full of possibility's
Yet we are everything in a world of nothing
I have excepted my fate
Have you
I suppose if it makes you feel good
That perhaps we care
We want to nurture and protect
But we will always be disposable
The clock ticks as the time grows faster and faster. It's endless cycle taking our last breaths
Do you care than or is it to late...?
YOU ARE READING
Oh, How Cold And Treacherous
PoetryA short poems that I hope you all like or relate to This is a picture from google.
