Open Poetry #28 |
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The Cold Hearted |
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symphony_of_thoughts Member
since 2003-08-03
Posts 95Somewhere |
He sits atop his throne of glory Always looking down He never finds the details gorey He never conveys a frown The world may lay upside down But what does he care Broken chords may bring no frown As bring no thought despair High up he's throned with his pride As he keeps his hellish grin Even though he knows he's lied He'll surely kill his kin His eyes are always dry His heart surely symbols ice Many people ask why As his sickened thoughts suffice He feels no guilted thoughts He feels his strength ten fold He loves his killing soughts The blood conveys rich gold He killed so many lives He doesn't want to go So many broken strives The world cannot grow God's hand has touched his breath He wants to stay and kill He never wants to feel sweet death As his heart starts to chill He falls into this unkown slumber He wished to fly up And feel the glory of summer He wanted to empty his cup The devil calls his name He tries not to listen more As his mind is put to shame He is shown all his sickly gore As death gripped his cold hand He tripped and depressingly fell His breath drowning in the sand As he painfully accompanies hell |
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Tequilia_Sunrise Senior Member
since 2003-02-19
Posts 612Lochalsh, Ontario, Canada |
somthing to think about |
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