Written May 16, 2019 3:16 am
A desolate expanse of one's mind can be a trap.
After all, an idle mind is the devil's workshop.
My grandmother still says this.
Deep into the abyss, I have fallen
With no sure escape. Save me.
Fighting may be futile, but I attack with no regard.
It's hard and I'm lacerated
With deep scars.
The exit is almost too far away.
This is my last prayer.
Forever.
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Survivor's Remorse
PoesiSurvivor's Remorse is a personal collection of poetry, songs, lyrics, prose, and more that ranges from the early 2000s through 2023 when I finally decided to start a new poetry book! Thank you immensely to anyone who has taken time to read this book...
