The words on the page call to me like whispers in the night.
my mind is fighting for existence, only hearing you call my name
what magical words i hear lifting them selves off the page
filling the air with darkness no light can bare this shadowless sight
you still call me drawing for me no matter how i try to fight it
pulling me to the light it keeps calling me to my death
as i wake to find my sheets red
blood drawn fomr no where
what can this be?
i ponder to my self as i lift my self to clean off the bed
i see the beast staring at me like a bug to a light i try to run but no use
looking away no use
i try to scream but that only amuses you.
i feel the life draining from me
The beast toying at me what will i do next as your little puppet
what will i do for my master?
why do i fear my master he is a beast
and makes me crawl just for amusement trinket
in this little tiny room he spins me around
like a little stuffed doll throws me across the room just
to hear me scream the beast is my master and i am his little trinket doll
 A t e l i c E n i g m a · Sat Sep 05, 2009 @ 01:48am · 0 Comments |
