Oh depravity!
What is it that bids me fall
into thy cold and dark embrace?
Is it my head, is it my heart?
Is it some other; that which my soul shall not impart?
Thy beckoning call beguiles me, ere many a darkening night,
and begs me cast myself aside;
and lose my will,
my pride,
my life.
YOU ARE READING
Iridescence
PoetryA compilation of the things I do when I can't sleep i.e. listen to music and try to write poetry and epigrams and shit
