(I think I should specify, before I write this work, that my family died in a fire when I was seven. This is why you'll see a lot of reference to flames in my work. I was the only one of my mother, father, and little brother, to survive.. therefore, I am the Unforgiven Child.)

Crying out, blanketed in smoke,
The child cannot run,
You've struck again, taken another,
mother, father, son.

Death it seems is everywhere,
or at least it's in my fate,
it shadows me with wicked grace,
it beckons me with hate.

Slowly, I am giving in,
I am crawling in my hole,
you've left me cold and empty,
you've destroyed my very soul.

So now I stand here screaming,
my mind is lost to rage,
my only wish, for you to come,
so that I can turn that page.

I am.. Unforgiven.

(At the end of this, I'd like to thank DarkNTormented for introducing me to the site, where I'm confident enough to post my works, and know they'll be accepted by my peers. Thanks, dollface. Looking forward to talking to you more often.)

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