Really Real
The crows that circle in the sky, black is my soul, which displays the way i will die - Vivid images tend not to be fake, chained i am by my mind, is my shadow really real - In the shade of skull, the bones are flooded down to my marrow - Will i break dawn into tomorrow, will i be able to grave my sorrow - Fear of sadness is the scene in which i act, so 2 is the echo of a blindless bat - My path is littered with glass, broken is damage next to my past - The gun signals my hand for a trigger, to miss completel
poem by Unic Cjonr
Added by Poetry Lover
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