Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

Hell's Garden

I am captivated by the blood that gushes from a gash.
My spirit is blighted; fading to ugly colors as I wish
For an escape from demons I created to keep me company.
The destitute licks me, splits me wide open and destroys
All the faint love that lingered within.
Where adoration once lived, now hate grows
As wicked as a vine; maddening tendrils
Climbing higher and higher, yearning to choke others.
These esoteric feelings suffocate me.
I wish to meet death, shake his hand and let him
Lead me away from the aphoristic world
That slowly tries to enforce agony in a place where
Beauty belongs, but fails miserably to grow.

6-12-12


Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Hell`s Garden

378,298 Poems Read

Sponsors