Every hour, minute, second I am prey I am fodder Hunted down by demons Haunted by every face I've ever seen Pacing around in suffering Isolated by shame Reluctant by nature Tormented by illness I lay powerless to their mockery Engulfed in darkness Stunned...
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Endless torment Stories
Bitter Fruit
Love’s joys soon die leaving only painA poet wrote, “parting is such sweet sorrow,”A cloying sentiment I would dispute,The fading of love spawns such bitter fruit,Better death than to awake the morrow.Though the fruit of love’s dawning seems so sweet,The joy of its consumption is but briefAnd...