| Death, Sex and Violence (Darkness) |
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| Please note that some of these poems have rather violent content so I would like to warn all readers to practice discretion; especially towards those poems with an asterik. Not for the faint hearted. Language may be offensive. |
| When Morning Comes I'm so tired. So drained. Of my emotions, my strength; my life. My brain hurts, just as my thoughts do. Thinking of the inexhaustibles that i must finish by monday morning. So many matters. So little time. life's so short. why? I While away my existance labouring Always giving in to others' demands. never having any freedom of choice. The ray seeps in my room My last reminder Time is my sin drawing the air into me garnering all courage a swift sheathe; my mind screams like a banshee a river of pain blue turns red The smell of fresh freedom heavy is my heart my breathe my thoughts but my soul is light a tasteful delight And as I lay down on my bedroom floor, knowledge to myself when morning comes, it shall be my darkest night. |