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I try
Pain shrieks out loud, in these caged walls
Every echo pierces through the skin
of this body that I no longer know
with a thumping heart,
beating through the reek of death all around
I don’t know what scares me more,
The reverberating sound of his voice,
or it coming out through my own.
Whose consolation do you run to
when angels themselves
descend to be your sinners.
Whose comfort do you turn to
When each passing second is a blur
When life itself is floating by,
Leaving you and your filth behind
I try and I try and I try
But with every breathe I take in
All that flows out, is my body
still under his control.
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Favorite Quote:
"A writer must never be short of ideas."<br /> -Gabriel Agreste- (Fictional character- Miraculous)