I live in heaven's hell.
I mourn with the pious.
My silence is my tell,
My romance is my bias.
I fight in hell's heaven.
I write your name in mud.
Seventy times seven.
My legacy in blood.
With words unleavened,
Bound secrets not to tell,
You are my Heaven,
My solitude, my Hell.
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1 comment:
getting all tortured artist on us, eh? (^_^) It was an amazing poem pumpkin, I liked it.
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