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Untitled D:

written for school for the sole purpose to creep out my english didn't work, she liked it--even went as far as to describe it as 'intense'...i have failed. never again will i probably attempt dark poetry.
Chained, to the secrets she holds
They bitterly mock her agony
Scarred, with the pains of the past
Crushed, with the absence of love
Stained, with the stinging salt tears of remorse
And burdened with the darkness of death
With a heart grown colder than stone,
and the fractured remains of was once a soul
The feeble beaten body,
cold, bruised, broken, and without any sensation
knows only pain and grief.
Happiness now is but only a distant radiance.
Her numb fingers grope the dark for signs of hope,
fading into the night
and slipping away from reality,
falling from this world.
Even the sun has no warmth.
*i know what you're thinking (even though i dropped telepathy+mind reading class last year) the idea of the verse is quite old and nothin' new. yaaaa and it does seem interestingly uncreative-ly like the ashes poem, i noticed that too...heh...heh...the monkey rocks, i know.
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