Once again.
Im trapped in a cage.
Why can't they understand my art ?
What a shame..
I'm an artisan.
An arsanist.
A wizard in a mask.
See this trick ?
I made a room of sinners dissappear..
In a flash.
In a tick.
"Birdy, birdy, where are you.
Let me shed that light off of you"
I've been called a fraud.
I've been called a god.
Poor old john is gone..
Oh god
I'm little ol John.
My brothers and I.
Live an eye for a eye.
The saints.
Our choice.
Is our fate.
The hate.
Makes fame.
The saints.
Us saints.
The last remaining saints.
Forever remember.
The saints.
YOU ARE READING
The Meloncholy Diaries
PoetryThe Saints are misunderstood childhood friends who are seeing the world as what they want to be and through a sinners and a Christians point of view. They are all based on my creative saints. Still Ongoing though. List of the saints: Dreams Saint Ha...
