Our little Secret

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: January 18, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 18, 2018



Twisted twigs on thorny paths lift my soul into the darkness. The jugs are full, my cups are ruined. Behind dark corridors of pain, I soar into an empty realm. Dark wings strengthen me, dark wings direct me. Deep into the dark pools I drink, I break the devil's twig.

Dancing shadows leap. As I sing my soul's hymn, strangled by the pain I found in you, I finally breathe. I am in a realm where pain becomes strength. By my strength, your soul will melt into my wicked flames. With tear stained eyes, I played your twisted games. I enjoy the peace I find in my broken wings.

Bloody pools of sad years overlap dry grounds. My heart, a fertile valley of rosy thorns. The lilies are lost behind my thick walls. The evil in me seduces my senses, the devil in me calls. To everyone enchanted by my words, I plead, run! There is more to the tears in my eyes, the calmness I've found, the fire in my kiss; behind lies a hiss.

Sculpted by lies, pain, fear and guilt, I rose, a new ME. The ME you should have met when you casted your filthy net. Enjoy your spoils while they last. I bring you misery, my purest gift wrapped in my heartfelt tears. Let it oil your rotten heart and lick your pus filled wounds.

I'm something you'll never find, a riddle you'll never crack, an excuse you'll never have, the laughter your mouth will lack, the desire your loins will crave, the happiness you'll never find. The music behind your loss, the dagger behind your sores, the magic behind your curse.

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