THE BLEEDING PEN ANTHOLOGY 36
She walks but lifeless
She is on cloth but I see her Nakedness
She looks cool but lake of hell burn in her
Eyes are sharp but sees star
I prefer a scorpion sting to thy smile
A combustible choleric fire, so versatile
To my throat and thigh, grief choke
Me down as woes of life is me is convoked.
The borrow taste left me,
Like I surpass the mean,
Of oceans of lies to breed,
Under the muse of greed.
The hopeless state my Angel left me
And weakness sings to my ears as bee
My arms are weak
My brain is sick.
Essence of the manifestation of being without emotion,
The stillness of being with a foundation.
Subjective and inner coldness ,
Living in the light full of darkness
This takes back to her tale
Now she’s sober with face that is pale
She was once a pugnacious rich being
Now she lost all, now packing bin
I divorced wealth for your sake
Killed my crony comrades
Just to keep you close to my heart
But you tore me apart like things fall apart.
In high-level of gaga to drop,
The world recorded its drupe,
Seeking humans of void,
Tapping knowledge from coined.
I remember those days we re-spelt love
And we changed it to us
Little did I know it’s for a little time
And now she left me dead while she looks fine.
The state of mind brought up by an event,
Abrupt illogical inclination of rest.
Experiencing needles and pins,
Yet unto himself he keeps the pains.
Friends see me so passive
Romantic poetry accuses me of not being active
Brothers and brethren
It ain’t my fault, I’m a living dead.
In a blink of an eye,
Darkness covered lies,
Immortal beings to Mount,
Where blood will count.
Is this life or death?
The crayon that designed love has beset
And hassle mine to a desolated camp
Where mockery and travesty encamp.
Her husband was the richest
With that no one in the street rest
Splashing water on both old and young with her car
All because she was a star
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