Dreaded.
The colour red, interfering again.
Invading, inexcusable,
But beloved.
Never fading.
Why not go the extra mile,
And go somewhere else for a while?
But there's no going any further,
Yet no going back.
This bloodlust is the only thing that counts,
in a life where life itself is lacked.
This thirst never disintergrates,
along with its counterparts.
What do a few extra imperfections matter,
On a body that was hardly a work of art?
This is going nowhere,
But neither was I.
Logic may leave, it will not be grieved.
Dignity move aside.
Its not what I want from it anymore,
Now its only what it needs from me.
Anything is possible,
Everything is free.