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No Choice - Rave St. Germene

Poetry By: Rave

The moments before the death of a betrayer. The thoughts of the mind of the insane. The gone. The betrayed.

Inside, the betrayed is dead. But...it is the betrayer that will truly be dead.

Submitted:Jun 29, 2010    Reads: 48    Comments: 0    Likes: 1   

Look at my hands

Do you see them?

Do you see?

They've been stained with blood

Burned with passion

Slashed with hate

The cuts, the burns, the scars

These scars

My misery

Shows in these scars

I bet if this flesh were torn

Sliced, diced, slashed...

The blood would not be red

Nor black

Nor blue

But nothing

I have nothing left to bleed

Because you gave me no choice

But to die

Oh, but to die such a horrible death

This pain

This...sweet, sweet pain

An empty soul can feel nothing

But this


What is this?


Death? Is there such a thing?

Aren't I just...floating?

In a certain....hell.

The cuts...

The burns...

The scars...


These scars!

You burn me with these scars!

You burn, you burn!

You cannot hate!

You cannot love!

You cannot feel

The pain you inflict to others

You give no choice

No choice

Not one


With your lie

We all die

Your turn.


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