What have I become? Who was I once?
Forbidden insights into a corrupt and confused mind.
Journeying to the beginning of the tangent,
Surveying the damage I reaped in earnest.
The pure white satin of my soul,
Stained from the crimson blood of my sin.
The geyser of trust will never again erupt,
Stopped by the cork of deceitful lies.
Rolling torrent of depressive fear,
Cascading from the cliffs of insanity.
The suffocation only night brings,
Suppressing, holding hope at bay.
Twisted morbid destruction of the civilized being,
Ushering in the chaos that now runs rampant.
Rust creeping over the scarred steel,
Like utter blackness seeping through my core.
The deathly silent funeral of the boy who once was,
Giving rise to the man who now is.
This is the malicious creation I have become,
Welcome to my haven, my hell, my desolate soul.
Copying this work to another webpage without author permission is plagiarism.
Plagiarism is a misdemeanor, usually punishable by fines of $100-$50000 and up to one year in jail.
Comments on My Desolate Soul