A wish upon an escape of Earth, For thy not know where the unfaithful walk, I stagger in a stupor of inhumane talk, Has innuendo never clogged a mind so filthy? Upon this platter of perished thought, Guilt is that of one with psychosis, Screaming kill me. For is it this hellish honour I owe? Or am I washing my own grey matter, With trivial pursuits of melancholy happiness? You are not me as I am not you, But through these eyes of yours I seldom borrow, Should such contemporary feeling, Be waned by thou that were once I? For upon deaf ears, I spill my soul, And shatter walls where I find comfort, Amongst chaos I flail myself but, Never lose myself. Among stars cursed to shine, To weary wanderers who dont touch, I, amongst other things, am a lost soul.
Posted on: Wed, 29 Jan 2014 17:23:54 +0000
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