I feel neither joy nor pain,
My wounds anointed by the rain.
I’m cursed by my disease,
The air is heavy, I cannot breathe.
Blood dripping from my hands,
Never ceasing its demand,
The light is hidden from my sight,
Night is a raven taking flight.
The black flows through my veins,
Ever-present is her stain,
My vision it is never clear to me,
Evanescent is her touch, my memory, my sanity.
[…] I’ve never claimed to be a poet, but I’ve decided to unlock one of my pieces from earlier. Enjoy. « The elusive Meese. […]
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