Bodies stacked in my closet
Blood running like a leaky faucet
Mastered the art of many murderous instruments
A serpents eyes, a glacier hart, a mind full of incompetence
How the many have fallen by my hands
Destroyer of time in the particles of sand
Wasted breathes escape through quivering lips
Hiding the scars between whimsical quips
Aching for the past that bleeds into my future
Containing the dark with a unkempt suture
I have murder my dreams trying to find my heart
Love is the strongest emotion for tearing ourselves apart
How many lives must I burry to reach the end
My soul aches to shatter, but it always bends
When the light fades from my eyes and the world goes bleak
I pray my soul no longer feels meek
May the horrors inside me be brought to justice, even at the cost of my own damnation.
I am a murderer of my soul, with love as my inspiration.
May my hands be washed of their sins and the darkness find no admiration
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Poetry
PoetryJust some poetry I make on the fly when my mouth can't speak what emotions I feel, my soul will type them here.
