Whispering Death

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Read it and just see for yourself what it is about.

Submitted: December 26, 2010

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Submitted: December 26, 2010

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Come down to my world
deep underneath this dirt grave
where no sunset touches our souls
we dance while our feet wear thin
until ribbons of flesh hang off.
 
No pills can help you anyway
you’re addicted to the American way
holding everything in
keeping it covered with a coat of drugs
when you run out
and the bottle empty
with your needle dry as a desert
what will you do?
 
Come down to my world
forget about the living frustrations
breathe in mother earth
the worms won’t even bother
No eyes or mouths to mock you,
the yelling will stop
 
That blade you use
rusted with the taste of blood,
you’ve grown accustomed to the sharp pain
but it doesn’t matter as long as you don’t think.
If the world stops screaming at you
the razor is your best friend
a thing that can be better than those pills.
The ones you can never get
but what if you become to numb to it,
what then?
 
Come down to my world
there is no need of sharp objects
no blood can be scented
the world passes by without a second thought
all that abuse will go away
just take my hand and I can help you
 
It won’t hurt
not unless you want it to.
People won’t be asking you questions,
you’re too far down to even get a scream.
Follow me into the darkness,
the icon of Gothic culture.
Don’t toy with the idea,
jump without thinking my dear.
The darkness will you embrace you
hug when you need it the most.
You won’t have to test your nerves

take death with your last breath.


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