Glancing down at a silvery blade,
Tempted to feel how well it's made.
A simple draw across the surface
To quench a particular thirst...
Inside crying out for what was lost
One's pain going to give at the cost.
Silent rivers travel down,
To an or-face shaped in a frown.
All has abandoned one's heart,
Thanks to being torn apart.
A calm air washes the victim,
As the red liquid falls from the limb.
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My Poems
My poems or short stories, will be different than any other. Maybe more horror, I don't know, what do you think? Comment. Don't Steal. Don't Copy.
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