Broken End

Blankets bind chains around me,
yet they feel so safe and warm.
Ghosts bring fire to my life,
so why do I feel so worn.

Saviors still offer a hand,
but give hope for a price.
Will it work anyway,
that attempt at paradise.

Angels wings are blinding me,
a rope, a pill, a knife.
The devil they say does hide,
behind the masks hope and life.

Still I can't release this pain,
the sweet torture of living.
I've tried it so many times,
to cry for a new beginning.

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741