Poezja

Calven Butch, 22 października 2011

Wings of the darknesss

I use to sit high in the chair  up in the clouds,
Everything I worked for came,
All of the people that I loved gone,
My hopes shattered,
my hope flew out the window,
That chair I use to sit on is now crumbled,
I was thrown off,
Angered,
I ran off,
Planing to get you back,
Revenge is sweet when I hurt you,
to see your tears running down your face,
to see the pain flare in your eyes,
to see your body dying without me there,
I love this feeling,
To be the creater of this pain,
to be the creater of this agony,
hatred,
Everyone doesn't understand me,
they don't have too,
I just need to understand myself,
I don't know the light,
I hate the light,
Wings of the Darkness swoop in soon as i saw myself crack,
gone,
dissappeared,
I am no longer myself but a new person,
stronger,
wiser,
faster,
As for you,
you grew weak from trying to get me back,
you grew softer from trying to talk with me,
as i grow from those emotions that I do not need.
Grow some and take it like a Man!
Learn today,
teach tomorrow,
plan ahead