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i crave for blood to fill my arms, my thighs. like red ink on a peice of paper. i enjoy it, though, it's a problem i can never shake.
Once I was A poem; Lines carved Into arms And rewritten, Revised, Rehearsed Until I was Red ink On the floor And never wrote Another line more.
1 to 2 weeks, that’s how long it takes to regenerate new taste buds. To replace the taste buds that once danced with your own. That tasted the sweat on your skin and the chocolate you bought for me.
The bloods of disdain became apparent over time I'd have trekked a million hells only to say it wasn't mine And the rough terrain was rocky and ill structured like we; Found lost, exposed, and alone each time
As I spilled the crimson petals, The air around me, began to fill with it's fragrance. And as the sun began to set, It's rays painted the sky in diff shades of colours. But the sunset that I created,
I can still feel the needle peirce my skin Taste the glass stem between my lips I can still feel the white girl flowing into my veins My body going numb, between my ears hearing the train
I can be used for simple things, Carving, cutlery and pain. Doctors use a form of me, when they cut into your brain. I’m used in art, as both the method and subject,
Here I walk, alone, Down a cobblestone road. Here I walk, alone, Left with my hollow thoughts. Here I walk, alone, Wondering what to do. I can't go back home, Not after what happened.
1,000 friends in a life time you could make. Unfortunately; most will turn out fake. Only a few will prove themselves true. As you do them, they care about you.
Our blood is red,Straight ahead it runs,In tons,To the heart that beats
I still remember in vivid detail the first time my father made me bleed. It was a cold November evening and we had just finished dinner. I was all dressed up in my golden basketball jersey ready for a game.
It is a sight that repulses the others. Blood splattering against the pristine marble floor, a Scarlet fan. Bloody rivers racing,
Cloth can’t cover enough, Eventually all will be exposed. You try to sneak by, “Don’t let them see you cry.” The blood has a calming effect,
Knife carving into the soft squishy flesh; blood dribbling off the plate. Letting out a faint subtle sigh, admiring his handiwork.
Listing. Go up.
Summer’s here and the Sun’s Glare Brings little children—aliens— With tinted vision to live in a Body [of water] that is not their home. They see reaching arms
my niggas are drenched from head to toe in red. colors matter. my moms face is overwhelmed in blue. colors still matter. traumatized criminalized minds on green. colors will matter.
The red petals Remind of blood Which is What they will draw When someone Dares to come Too close Beautiful souls Always have The sharpest thorns To protect
There is an unspoken fear Of the fear that lies within. Of the fear boiling in my veins, Of the fear peeling back my eyelids at 1 a.m. I say nothing.
There is an unspoken fear Of the fear that lies within. Of the fear boiling in my veins, Of the fear peeling back my eyelids at 1 a.m. I say nothing.
I would like to look at the sky, but the starsopen my blood and disturbthe verses on the mouths of the dead:
How Blood Flows Blood flows Just like tears flows And love flows Rooted in pain
Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul; And sings the song without the words And never stops at all. Emily Dickinson, you are a wonder. How the world could not see
PLASMA I donate my plasma a lot these days because it makes me think of you. You thought it was silly how I pass out at the sight of blood
A mind of wonders, Imagination locked inside. Idle hands, desperate to be untied. Expressions bleeding, through the veins. From the wild mind, To dormant hands.
Bleeding onto pages its heart has been pirced An aversion to the spill They say the felt feels too loud to see The crimson color Makeing meanings unclear Only blue or black
Patchwork stitching stars in the sky: Blue, green, indigo, violet. Thread is scarce so you have to use mine.
Smooth wooden handle 6 inches, nearly 10 when flicked open to reveal stainless steel The blade marred only by a few oily fingerprints and a speck of brown It smells of dust and of dried blood
the best part of the norovirus is that while it robs you of your breath, leaves you sweat-shaking with hot chills in bed it also steals your appetite finally, to be empty by no willpower of my own
His hands are calloused and torn, browned by the sun as always but now they are stained red with blood Silent, he grips the butt of his rifle with one hand and a dirty cloth with the other
Do you wanna play twister with me? Want to roll up your soul with my spine, take off the meat suit, be able to fly. Let's escape in this starfall night, knock at my window, break my strings of logic, I love your psychosis.
paper gause pen sword red ink poem slash for every wrong answer i kind of want to subtract you
My name is insanity. See the way my teeth bleed, My eyes shine, My cackles echo through the corridors of night. Do you see my stretching smile? I know you do.
Would anyone care if I dropped off the earth, Would anyone shed a tear? Several sobs, a few gasps, some chairs at my funeral, Then I'm just simply not here. Would anyone care if I ended my life,
Tears set in blood on a child's face, A child betrayed by older men, Dissolve with a blush of embarrassed shame, As five long years of silence begin. Confused hands tremble in a disoriented state,
The razor no longer slides through my wrist, But I'm bleeding through the falling tears. I have it all. I have the friends. I have the love. I have the family.
On her face she wore a smile, Battered heart out of sight Masks hid her from society, Holding her up they watched her fall from the height.
To the Artist Who Painted the Portrait of a Heavy Heart, Your frayed brushes with shattered, splintered handles devoid of paint
I hide my body, And decorated my soul, I don't put doormats or door signs, That says "welcome" anymore, I got rid of all the dodders, And sowed seeds of dreams in my chest,
They calim To be your family But still They neglect you And tell you They don't want you They may claim To be your family But my love They are not Look here
dear JDM i dont know what makes you think what you did was okay cause in reality it wasnt even close to okay you left your pregnant wife to raise a child alone i hope one day you read this
Abigail SullivanPart 1: A Letter to Cerebral Ameloid Angiopathy. Out of nowhere, you chose my dad as a potential victim to interrogate.
Dear Papa, at night i would open my window to touch the warm breeze that sang me to sleep every night the moon the last image to grace my eyes before slumber i grew up with mama telling me to be wary of the moon to never look through the glass at
Dear You (yes, YOU, reading this), when they write us down in history, what is left to remember us by? will it be the rumble of our cars passing by? spewing posionus gasses that will fill our infant's eyes.
How many times do I have to slit my wrists to get rid of the poisoned blood in my veins. It was once believed most issues could be cured by draining the infected blood. So how many scars must my body endure
In Red is where my life is. That large blaring red light that deserves a sound but doesn't have one. I am swimming in this pool of red, Unlike anyone I know.
These are my tears, that drips into the very first lines that I wrote on this paper. My own blood spewing out of my body. The blood. My blood boiling. Only do to the fact of knives! Knives, knives, and more KNIVES!
As we grow old... We are supposed to listen to what we are told. The wise & the bold, Told us something that we should all take & hold.
The horn calls The sky falls The wind blows With the sun aglow The soldiers toiled in their plight The bird on the trees took head and took flight Violence for ages, sun up till sundown
Muted grey Shades of pain Blurry sneers My arms stretched out Coils freeze on my limbs Hanging above soulless concrete
When I was 10, While brushing my teeth I noticed my gums bleeding- And my mother told me That it was just bad blood leaving the body. That I’m doing such a good job, At respecting myself.
Hands placed on a unclean slate. Clans faced off and deaths happening at a unreal rate.Bodies lay quietly upon the ground, shoddy warn down knives all around.
Blood red words My stinging cheek A silver knife hides behind you eyes This is not what I want A small seedling should grow into a tree
The crimson drops under the moonlight A howl echos through the long night The stars that shine way up high A dreary gleam covers the sky My body slowly stats to quake Fear within my heart it does make
once upon a time our lives were intertwined the right way the love we had so sticky sweet rich like batido de mamay* flower garlands lockets locked hands
Once upon a time, There was a beautiful girl. Her hair smelled of rotten pine, Skin rotting off in whirls. "Beauty," the Prince said
Face plant off the third floor The blood splatter paints a pretty picture of why he didn't matter And who's sadder the committer or his encouragers Such a shame he had no one around to feel his hurt
Speak I don't. Fall I did. For him, Wonder if it's safe to say
Since firearms manifold more bang for their buck, any rational per son or daughter, one wood love to chuck fired and squawks like Donald Duck up in arms at alarming spike vis a vis trigger, where luck
We watch the news today just to see Hate crimes, tragedies, natural disasters Few cute story's are mentioned Few happy endings are told It is filled with blood and unhappiness Our country is great
I wrote a poem to choke my sorrow. Like a blot of gauze to staunch the blood flow. Drops of blood drop and drip between my toes, from wound that punctured lung like jagged bone,
Its a big white world in which we must add color ourselves however the only color I have is crimson the color of humanity for I am as human as they get The world will never be colorful
I want to draw stripes on my body use myself as a canvas draw horizontal stripes draw vertical stripes draw diagonal stripes
Give. Give. Give. The things that suit me suit you as well. I can give you myself You can accept it wholeheartedly But sadly,
Close your eyes. Breathe. Count to ten. One. Two. Your heart begins beating faster and faster, causing a terrible pain inside. You bring your hands to your chest and dig your fingers into yourself.
“There’s blood on the snow!” I cry,My words are like the wind whisking by.Revealed in those sheets of snow so white,Cultivates a crimson cause for fright.
I have so much to say So let these words bleed blood that I am unwilling Only a few represented Some unseen I may write and hide it from myself Spirals of poetry clog my shelf
Caught between one life and the next, the ground cracks beneath my feet, singing. Throw yourself, it croons, ageless volcanoes humming up through jagged earth. My heart breaks, tugging me forward,
I want to be something to give to people. I want my words I one day write, to make people feel something. To be so strong, they feel like you’ve been punched in the gut.
What is it like to watch me cry? What is it like to wipe away the tears from my eyes? Do they match in color? I can tell you what it is like To watch you cry Every heave of your chest
i am the same thick red blood as my ancestors. -courageous
blood does not run it stops to fight against your poison
I'm screaming He's here He's there He's everywhere I can't get rid of him No matter what I do I've tried killing him It just won't do Nowhere to go Holy shit He's here
I have this sort of obsession. It’ll seem alarming, but hear me out. I have these dreams, visions really, of blood. It’s fresh, dripping or pooling on hardwood floor.
what is a brother a brother is somebody who cares about you Somebody who talks about you
Someone told me it's not the end, Into the darkness I descend. Falling through empty promises That are to never to come true, Tied to a noose made by the view of the world As I dangle wordless and helpless.
Words flow through my veins like blood; I feel them pulse and quiver through. When my tongue is thick and mouth runs dry, I will write the words I cannot say. I will write these words to you.
I lay in a bed of rose flowers. The thorns pricked My thighs blood trickled down My sides Into the forever decaying soil Pricked fingers crimson gushing I was named after a rose
You've only hit me once Across the face with an open palm It wasn’t that bad, What hurt worse was the betrayal You had never hit me before
Tear down the wall Sturdy and tall Set firm with mortars that kept us in thrall Blood dirt and steel Flaming hot feel
Darkness envelopes within the soul. Consuming first from the edges like a t-shirt stained with blood We look into ourselves for hope
I once had a dream... I was with friends I've never seen before. The Life-of-the-Party friend had a powderd rock discovered by her scientist father.
White as snow, The beautiful rose. So fragile its petal, Hiding the thorns. The thorns that it hates, For it ruins its beauty. It ruins its purity. Among the red roses She belongs not.
Born and raised in a glory-hungry west, where a mad king now lays However, under the care of a beloved royal family, whom shall fight, love, and care for you; even up till the rapture
If those walls could talk, I know what they'd say; It'd be no comfort to families, Whose lights've gone away. For when sky fades to black, And blues turn to grays, And gun's life-taking crack,
And how my heart did feel that day When all alliance beat upon the crush'd All hope of victory was deftly flush'd By blood and for low price was I betrayed But all in secrecy was soft relayed
Black for her darkness hidden. Blue for her not yet cried tears. Green for her pain that is there but not found. Pink for all her fake smiles. Purple for the laughs that pains her but she tries.
Art; the (blood rushing through my veins, painting me with color in this gray, flavorless world) ability to take your brok- en, s e n s e l e s s, s c a
I can hear the clock ticking. My ears are bleeding. I hear your voice in my head. I am choking on my spit and you're snickering. I wish I could hate you. You revel in the blood pouring from my veins.
"The last stand was made here Where life drained the hills The last stand was made here Where many were killed The last stand was the last Though he did not stand He was hung on a cross
My old friend... a trinket to my soul that contributes to making my life more whole.... You are a gift to me.... one I cherish very deeply. The sun is starting to rise, take my hand, together we can avoid our demise....
Closed walls, walled hearts narrow halls, hollow parts. A man alone, set apart Black Turnstone, hidden heart. High throne, thin skin
I wield a fist that has shattered glass, leaving in its wake Shards strewn across the crimson splatter lining the sink where I weep sinking, sinking, sinking down into
Blood drips from murderous assaults Onto the rich soil of the earth Its crimson essence cries to all That Life will no longer give birth
No one Not even the rain Can quite feel my pain As I call out your name And its a shame That you left me in vain While I crawled on the floor leaving a small blood stain
Ah...the Earth is soaked yet again by the blood of men,
Hot, sticky, and wet
I'm swimming in red today.Don't mind me,Don't let me cause you delay,In your daily comings and goings.
There, a bloody knife in his handThere, he went from boy to manCrying, tears from the eyes in his headTraumatized from the blood he had shedHow his youth had gone so quickly
Kite grasped within a child's gripThin string suddenly slipsLost past burnt finger tips.Once was so dear, no long hadDevoured by blue quick sand.To the nothing reaches desperate, empty hands.
It's weird to feel your chest ache,
Honey please, put the razor down Please, don't tie that rope to the ceiling We need you here I need you here And somewhere, your future love is waiting for you
You have had too much hope Inside your soul And when you wake up With blood streaming down Your legs And tears Falling down your face The first person you want to curl into
Do you see me? Am I…real? The clouds of Shadows Overwhelm the Medicine As the years go by I try to heal... Am I trapped? Is this the reality? The one I have heard about-
She sits there staring at her wrist Blade in hand She begins to draw thin lines Bursts of red exploding from her skin Voices of her classmates and even herself Scream at her words of destruction
What color is perfection? That elusive transcendence from reality That which demands unnecessary change I see you, and you are transparent. I am flesh and bone I bleed when I am cut open
Sliding my fingers
Maybe I should just run away. If not a single soul should care, Why on earth would I stay? I've tried everything to numb this pain. But nothing seems to kill the sadness.
Our playpens are coliseums
Birth of new born killers high end thrillers sparse chances, taken with unease beans and peas, mark disease and players can't see me 'cause I was never on a team in the first dream, I ever had
Drip Drop Drip
Listen O' ye weary traveler To my tale of Love and Death. This life is a cruel mistress,
She isn't hopeless She isn't worthless She isn't mediocre She isn't ugly She isn't alone She knows this. She feels hate She feels shame She feels guilt She feels regret
There was a smell of suicide in the air tonight.
Bleeding because it paints the pictures so heavily spilled in my mind. And seeing the crimson upon my skin Gives me pain that makes me real. Crying because It makes me view
Oh! There it is,The blood of my Mothers’SinsBlossoming onMy white sheetsLike a bouquet of English roses.A shame -Laundry day hadBeen yesterday. My thighs have been painted
I. Comfort me in the time of hour At a time of utter loss That I see thy face as a partial flower Pure and mighty were thy words In a storm they have caressed me
“somewhere, there is a museum of unfinished surgeries.” – Dylan GarityI. the man who runs this place wears blue Nikes.he keeps them clean for the most part, aside
The blood seeps in Through the cracks on the walls And it penetrates Into my spirit Evolving my state Into a more impeccable union Listlessly it closes in On the lion
You don't have long to live So why end it now Stress can go so far but obtaining the power of decision can save your lives
Prick my finger on thistle That speaks sweetly, of royalty Find the moth-eaten holes in its words Through the smell of my copper-scented blood Trap me in amber and hide me away
The city's ubiquitous form floods the room Room filled with the scent of molding tea leaves Leaves fluttering to the ground in dead clusters never again to bloom Again, she sits, and stares and waits.
Darkness consumes the world Like black wings unfurled The cold shroud wraps my heart And aloof, I stand apart.
Tired Eyes, and broken vessels.. Crimson streaks, and open wounds... No escape for me, only the passion I once had. No will left to fight, no life left to live
So he got there this morning, saw no one, just her bed. Which was curiously red. So he called up the detective, "Listen here," he said. She's missing, nowhere to be found.
Anger corses through my veins,uncontrolable rage shook within me,I was un happy. My blood boiling cold,My eyes uncaring,words like a knife,cutting all near me.
Blood drips from my pen
You know what's beautiful?
A lust for Blood, a lust for love. A need for peace; for all wars to end. The human blood, of such sweet scent. Why, oh why must the scent linger in the air?
A Blood Moon NightWritten by Adam M. SnowTonight I watched in awe,the moon once pure and white.
Slice Bittersweet Crimson Curdling, Boiling, Steaming Painful Relief, Excruciating Beauty Oh, Bloody Hell
As my skin captures rays from the sun, I start thinking about what went down. The way he hit her and how they both liked it, The way she started to pale as crimson stained his hair.
I'm a fountain of blood in the shape of a girl that hoped one day that maybe she could be loved. You told me I was beautiful. You taught me to talk. You told me I was your princess,
Do you hate the way that our magnetized timesturn us all to metal shavings-- push and pull--charged eachday to fill up negative spacewith negative attraction?Were you repulsed when polarities
We're all fucking alone and I hate being reminded of it. Leave me And then come back showing me pictures and videos of you without me. Leave me And then never reply to my
I tried to write poetry on my wrist but the blood spread and smeared and now I can't read a thing.
Walking down the street with tear in my eyes and you still have words to say to me? My head in the ground, dirt in my face and your still kicking me?
Blood is thicker than water
A sea of dead bodies Lay on a blood-stained field. The dead are nothing but a memory. The last one standing is the winner. The one who kills all the others- He is called The Hero.
I love the girl with the vampire bite
On the bed and on the bathroom counter I lost track of time, maybe two hours? I completely devoured the passion you were incredibly lacking and got a high of pure satisfaction
Once, I saw a white rose
Screams can be heard the obliterate stares of those who don't have a clue do they really do you The bloody fingernails scrape the chalk board and the spine tingling sound
I was young, and DUMB.
Fresh flesh bleeds upon the ancient grounds of history Flesh that isn't our own Those chunks of human life belong to our brothers and sisters born to delete the wrong doings of war sickened people. They fight.
It was a long night... What grief, what sorrow did fill my heart. An ache unsatisfied with tears. Unsealing wounds. The thickest blood does seep from daggers. A kiss of death...Resurrection, I know.
Sometimes, sometimes when I find… That my voice is so tiny, so especially paltry. I can’t help but think how reality seems so bleak. It seems like nothing, Not even a spark of
Forget the residing pain in my stomach from the amount of running
Life is wrought a letter, Written slow to live the read, Longing to be tucked away, For living long in Heart. And yours, while still it beats, Pumps Ink unto the Pages,
***For those who have suffered through Natural Disasters*** Ocean of blue, Blood of red. Laying within Mother Earth’s bosom On grassy beds. Music of birds
It comes like a mist in the darkness discreet and soft spoken. So unkown and alien just like the dark side fo the moon. Comely as a ruby till blood is drawn due to wrong.
Almost 20 and still I cannot write about the time you hit me
Such darkness, her face streaked black. Such lonliness, her breast against thigh.
One last time i look in the mirror my eyes red, blood shot unfinished tears running down my pale cheeks my hair's a mess tangled on top i cant even bare to meet my own reflection
What has this world become? There are just so many things they stay away from. All of these v i r u s e s s p r e a d i ng
My heart is heavy.it is a wrecking ball: stone cold and rock solid.weighing me down.the weight of it,
I dream of bleeding in front of your eyes, But I must compromise. I'm dying to overdose from the red that once covered the bed, Now only in my head, Slowly becoming a whiter shade of pale as my heart beats,
Crimson liquid runs Free down my body
Dark red drips
I don’t want to be here now but I don’t want to go. Been gone so long now I don’t remember how. No not how I got here but where I am now. I don’t live ‘cause I’ve got no soul,
As the sun goes down our journey starts and our feet begin to wander For hours and hours we hike, and over countless trails we ponder The journey is long and its not easy, its nothing but sweat and blood for miles
Filthy hands shine in the light of the beautiful pain. Glistening in the promise sin offers to gratify the mind’s desires. Relief from the pain in frozen blood cries out. Trembling.
Find yourself a simple peace, Calm your raging inner sea. Rain still falls deep in your heart, Let the drops wash away the lingering hurt. Let it all go before the rain turns to flood,
Sometimes, I strike it low. I hit rock bottom. I fall. And I'll lay there for a minute, shocked by cold concrete. Bare. Skull-shattering. There's a reason I'm here.
Blood is pumped by the heartThe heart that beats with rhythmRhythm of the streetThe street where we grew upGrew up and grew apartApart from the worldThe world and each other of course
Looking in the mirror I see a girl... I'm watching her scream I'm rewinding her dreams I'm watching her cry I'm practically watching her die I sit back and watch as she tries to wipe the tears from her eyes.
Razor Blade Dealing with depression—it’s a hard thing that I wouldn’t even wish on my worst enemy. Seriously. Wanting to not be alive, to disappear, and to not be seen. It’s too hard to deal with.
I have been getting perfects score on my quizzes but when my exam came back, I almost had a heart attack. In my mind I had written a letter on the matching portion but to my dismay I have left blank three questions!
Ink in the bowl goes on to skin Culture from Africa to Americas Indians Ink that is absorbed into the mind Held in place forever in time
We won the battle. We fought the fight. We rode in saddles Til' the end of the night. The blood was spilled. Boys became men. Innocent tears filled. Their dads, they wouldn't see again.
She writes the story on her wrists. One of heartbreak, abuse, and sorrow. When will this pain end? She cries out in agony. "I can't make it until tomorrow! When will this pain end?"
When the blood of kings is shed and the world grows silent, waiting then a single spark of dread breaks the silence of the fighting When the blood of kings is shed
Hushed voices. Everyone turns. My name still in the air. Spread rumor. Everyone believes. Ignore them. Walk to my seat. Throw myself down. Head on desk. Let it all out.
My Love, You are my heart, my joy, and my bride. For you, I took the nails and the wound in my side. For you, I was beaten beyond recognition. For you, I lived knowing I’d endure crucifixion.
I remember one morning I sat on the porch and played with my dolls Gritty sand of the ground In my teeth Under my nails I remember looking up There was a man walking down the road
Drain my skin with hands that plunge into my flesh. Ruby drops streaming down my arms, my legs, my chin. Sliding and mixing with salty sweat and tears.
Blood pouring down like a thunderstorm the smell of earth replaced by the strong smell of iron and salt Blood pouring down all innocence bathed washed away
Depression… I’m nauseous. Obsession… Over cautious. Learned my lesson… I’ve got this. Left with less and got the obvious. A fracture… it’s painful. Your stature reveals a vain full… Of poison.
Il est de la plus riche couleurCelle d’une cerise mûreOu peut-être d’une fleurQu’on donnerait à son amoureux.
I find myself tied to a string, There's an urge pulling at me. I cut off all the heads of my enemies, I begin to saw away at my personalities. I saw fountains in mountains, It was only a spring.
Nerline! Nothing more, nothing less My name among other things pronounced at his lips' release A petrified shiver down my spine We are nothing more than strangers who
Mountain ridges arise from your back Everything is broken gloves on, real friends, fake friends No Tongue Raven at your window get out get out get out permanent, this
It all started one day she got threatened, got made to do something she didn’t want to do thought it would get better, but no, it stayed the same
Shells bursting is the only din. The dirt launched up from the moist ground. My vision is blinded by the light. I must withstand. Even despite The fact that I cannot be found.
Many wonder why Self-Inflicted Inhibiting "sigh"I just couldn't deal with it all internal pain- in my weeping mind I couldn't take couldn't cry so I broke a mirror
The ever passing time has been justified by the rise and fall, of the hyped star, which has seen our planet from the start.
Three drops of blood.
Blood burns inside her wrists so sore until she’s writhing on the floor in acute pain caused by the madness of consuming ones heart and wanting more. The red drips from her baby nose
Everyday I walk down these halls terrified I can feel the stares and read their lips Calling me anything they can think of Just to hurt me My mind fools me Making me think I'm strong enough to take it
If I put my fist to my chest I feel a sensation so sweet to the living body The heart The muscle so strong Coursing blood through not only my veins But my arteries first So pure and so bright
The Colour of War is not Red By R. M. Otto
her garden flourished flowers of every kind in every color imaginable she took good care of her garden kept the weeds away never let any thorns grow
A story about my Uncle Sam who doesn't seem to get enough money, and it's hurting every single person out there.
Our forefathers bled for us. They took the pain of being different away. They fought against the stubborn who would never allow black people to have rights.
Chains chafe my skin My blood mixes with the sweat upon my back Both rivulets running down and racing to the dry dirt My burden affixed upon my shoulders
A droplet drips down Ruby red and perfect Falling from the wound Of the fallen man Lifting his head He tries to stand But, alas, he can't He is a fallen man
You must be cool and composed You must- even when all are opposed You must deny your morals and speak tact You must unite your comrades, you have a pact
It’s much too dangerous to think about passion.
was the most intriguing being, walked steadily, her smile bewitched me, i felt something move inside of me, my colleague said it was blood, i did not believe him, God really knows how to create,