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Life as an imbecilee to the spawn of my heart
goth poem
the night falls in a heavy, suffocating cloak, entwined are we.
the emotion for which you lust
flares once, then dies,
crushed by a velvet ebon nothingness.
all hope must surely perish.

your soul thrives no more.
how could you not understand?
demons surround us, crying,
sanctuary.






User Comments: [1]
Purple_Handpuppet
Community Member





Sat Sep 20, 2008 @ 08:59pm


i like your poem.


User Comments: [1]
 
 
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