Guilty Pleasure
I thought I have found solace in writing, found a friend whom I can express all my troubles with, but it isn't, writing is much painful, it's deeming me to convert my blood into poison— the poisonous blood into covetous ink that either inspire or deceive people into believing dogmatic beliefs. It satisfies me, yes, it makes me glad that my words can sympathize the hearts of my readers but it feels so wrong afterwards, the intoxicating pleasure I feel becomes guilt that burdens me.
My words are nothing but dried ink, my written pieces are nothing but a mere byte.
I'm quitting. . .
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YOU ARE READING
Songs Of A Brokenhearted Soul
PoetryAmidst the darkness, pain, intense emotions and the stirring feelings of fears, doubts, fervid desires and love. A writer was able to write confessions, tales and stories through songs and with the help of his heartbroken soul. #1stplaceineyecatchin...
