PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

how he tries to be the one i hope for

by just being himself

and how he succeeds

over everyone else

and why am i the selfish kind,'to want what this will bring

even though it will not be pleasant things

her face contorts as she tries not to scream

Fuck you! your breaking me

but also is she unsure,

of the dagger twisting in her heart

tearing lovely chords apart'

thier perfection is definetly un pure

as time pulls on more and more

the dark against the light

both so fake, both so forced, and both so right

it looks good on you, this color of poisen spread,

it looks so beautiful on us, this feeling of eminate dread.

"we will not hold hands" he said

though  that was her one request,

"for the dead can phase the roads unpure, and if we were to travel it would be failure"

Take your road full of hope and destitution and i'll take mine full of lies and prostitution

they lead on as the witch lurked in the shadows

and the horses road high, shedding thier saddles

the sky glowed dark swirling shades of orange  

all three walked thier way into the deathly dawn