The Darkest Green

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Poetry.

Submitted: July 23, 2011

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Submitted: July 23, 2011

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Evil, evil.
This is all you know, know,
and honey it's a shame, shame.
How are you so cold, cold?
Your heart puts mine in pain, pain.
To my soul I am true,
not even hell would take you.

Jealousy, rampage,
all these things that make you age,
so ungracefully.

I want to tear at you,
stab at you,
rip your bloody heart out,
for all it bleeds is black blood,
ma'am.

Said with utterance
of phoniest of respects.
Oh, what a pity.

I want to tear at you,
stab at you,
rip your bloody heart out,
for all it bleeds is black blood,
ma'am.

Tamp'ring with my mind,
your thoughts, of the spiteful kind,
to raise you, raze us.

Evil, evil.
This is all you know, know,
and honey it's a shame, shame.
How are you so cold, cold?
Your heart puts mine in pain, pain.
To my soul I am true,
not even hell would take you.


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