PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

killers instincts on the hollow of morn
a world of demons is yet to be born
to see is to believe
to tell the ones who grieve
their dead loved ones came back to life
to haunt them who see the light
a darkness welcomes all with hate
to decide the Richmond's crooked fate
screaming at the empty heart
my possession tearing my soul apart
i cannot start the story of the sorrow i feel
or even the happiness cuz none is real
ripping off the chains of pressure
thoughts come to me like terabyte
for there is no measure
i cannot stand the want and desire
to be who i am but the mountain gets higher
clip the wings of an angel
and see who's restless pant
takes over the mind
to intertwine with the soul
the heart and everything i am
just so you can tell me who to be
none of you know me
you'll never understand