Death is like a cold hand of a corpse reaching out
It becomes tempting to grab it
It becomes welcoming
Death is a cold friendly hand
I get lost in my harmful thoughts
I come back to reality, and it hurts
But what is reality?
I have never known it.
Does it get better?
They say it does.
They try to empathize but don't get it.
Death is like a cold hand of a lost friend
Should I grab it?
Should I accept the invite?
Someone save me
Pull me back, take me from the Devil
Save me from his demons that are now mine...
But you can't save me
You can't take me away
You can't pull me back
I am a lost cause...
LOST FOREVER
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Author:
Bloody Pen (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 31st, 2018 22:27
- Comment from author about the poem: Through this poem i am saying death has become this comforting thing but i cant go to it
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 8
Offline)
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