Confessions of the Dead

by The Queen   Aug 3, 2009


Life...
A monastery of sadness
haunted by colorful sorrows
of wintry afternoons, and costly tears
from regrettable flood of emotions
yet mostly never shed.

Life...
a kingdom of hatred
where minds are slaves of magical
blades and numb wrists
"CUT-RIP-SLICE" to death
while souls scream out in pain.

Life...
a theater of depression
a place for all that is blue
where lingering scent of hell befriends
the paranoiac thoughts in their wildest
yet, loneliest...HOURS.

Dark memories of this so-called life
freshly shelved between crocked
smiles and disgust.
Nothing seems
to matter,
but a kiss of sweet death.

Copyright (C) 2009 by EvanescentMoon

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Latest Comments

  • 12 years ago

    by joseph santacruz

    After so much yearning and confusion, I find that the simple things are the only things that matter and that relationships need'nt be so hard nor life so serious and depressing. I feel your pain and like your writing. I t is powerful and i feel it!

  • 12 years ago

    by Half Husband Half father

    U nailed it damn nice use of imageries i lovd it

  • 13 years ago

    by Renegade Angel

    I LOVED this poem, the persepective is just a goor revealing of these emotions. Though sad, i was very happy with this... :

  • 13 years ago

    by innocent chalera

    Nice

  • 13 years ago

    by innocent chalera

    Nice

Read All Comments (23)

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