| » Poem: On the cross |
On the cross
written by Genocide Reaper09:56 AM 3/16/05Feel what's inside of this hollow world within.
Pinned against the cross and mocked.
Fingers pointed by a massive crowd.
Enraged eyes gazing out upon them as they laugh aloud.
Blood flowing from my wrist and palms, impaled to this wooden bond.
Tearing free, after looking specifically.
Its some one I know that I see.
Expectations told me to watch all the others come.
But I thought you'd never show.
Cast your stones.
Join them in their forsaken homes.
Aid them in their thoughtless cons.
Cuts and bruises are my memories.
Isn't it sweet how things break down in dreams?
After all the betrayal, my wrist shred.
I rip myself from the nails.
Holes in my wrist and palms.
This cross no longer has its hold.
I am now free to kill you all in blood that is cold. |
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| » Comments / Feedback | by Ephemeral-Euphoria (3-16-2005 - 01:58 PM)
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