08 Nov 2019 6 Comments
in Poems, Stories Tags: Depression, lost soul, obcession
Such a black soul
Broken not whole
No redemption forthcoming
My lack of hope, quite stunning.
Deserted and abandoned, banished
My heart empty and famished
My lust for blood insatiable
On edge my nerves unstable.
The moon rises I crave a drink
I shall sate this thirst, no depths too low for me to sink.
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willowdot21 