The Poets Curse/by:Haunted Lunacy

-
The poets curse is to hold this pen,
to write the words that hurt within,
to weep alone and spill this ink,
when all he wants is to cease to think.
These pages stained with memories 
so dear, he keeps them close and pretends
she’s near. Immortal words, his ink will flow,
he can never truly let her go.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Savior In A Can/by:Haunted Lunacy

-
Alcohol to cleanse my sin,my soul needs a savior, but the bottle is my friend It washes down all the pain,that I can’t swallow when  I’m sober ,It heals my heart ,  because I’m insane. The devil lives at the bottom of a bottle , Tells me all the lies and all the dreams that  I don’t follow. Whispers words that tell me    I’ve gone mad, He says I’ve trampled on every love that I’ve had. I need a savior, but not in a can, I don’t need a idol of glass to tell me who I am 
Read more

Slowly, Quietly/by:Haunted Lunacy

-
Slowly, quietly, one by one the demons come, to whisper nightmares into my ears, the poison thoughts  that leave me numb. Oh how they creep so quietly  in the dark, with claws sharp  as daggers to rip me apart. I beg and I plead, but they won’t  leave me alone, for each night they visit, my madness their home.
Read more