Poezja

Could your words
Wash and heal my wounded thought?
Judgment or perception
You made liar too simple to forgive
Forget or forgotten within a molded trust
About care and hope 
Twisted at the edge with blade and blood
They were thicker than you ever think
Hit to the wall of all shames
Regretting to know you
Suppose to be a good friend of many truths
But dear me you are liar 
By God by angle come no near
No print are not taken into my ribs of regret, 
Seeing your heinous game of hypocrite  
Unremorseful sins deem so light
Upon your head
Too much of demonic overly lusty desires were born and grow
And they are killing you fast.

© All Rights Reserved