Oh, It Was The Bones

AnxiousMane

Behold a pathetic spectacle of self-neglect and misery

Unless you hate yourself, you can’t begin to think of feeling me

I’m a melancholic product of confusing circumstances,

And there’s no one this earth that can understand the trances

Necromancy upon my broken flesh reveals that I’m immortal

Endless anguish overwhelms, I gaze in mystic portal

I see the raging field of flames in all its spiteful wrath

The beckoning skeletons make me reckon with my path

The chittering bones are my only friends in this hellish realm

Might as well melt my flesh and join them in their hell.

 

"We both know how this will end.

I may not know how it will shake out exactly,

but our tale has one specific ending.

We are one and the same, dear friend,

And I know that you won’t have the patience

To tolerate this nonsense for much longer.

Whether it’s today or tomorrow, it will happen,

my friend."

  • Author: AnxiousMane (Offline Offline)
  • Published: January 28th, 2017 01:23
  • Comment from author about the poem: ms paint
  • Category: Sad
  • Views: 28
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