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by
PLUR13
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Poetry And Lyrics
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| Submitted on 05/05/2012 |
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The feeling of lonesome embrace comes around me
A unknown doubt slowly eating everything that once was reasurring.
I am afraid that I have caused this undermining condition
As my fears are shrouding my view.
Sulfur burns my nose as I sit, unsure of what I have done
watching the flame engulf my home.
Was it I whom started the fire?
Or was it the shadow that leans against my back
Whispering into my ear, letting me know the story.
A black out again, blood painting the walls and staining my hands.
They tremble with uncertancy as blurred bodies lay still.
Those poor people never stood a chance...
I awake again, this time under a bridge.
My body is sore and my hands are still stained.
I am trying my best to recall the nights actions,
but sadly I cannot.
I went to a home and took a hot shower
nothing has ever felt this good.
But why do I have this urge that makes me wonder
I have done this before and yet do not want to grasp it.
The pleasure of another and yet nothing.
Stepping free from the warm steam that carressed my body
I would look into the mirror and see the image before me.
The young beautiful woman, with haunting eyes.
The brown hair of oak and the glowing gleam held
Capptive in her smile.
She cannot be me...
She is not dark...
She is not demonic...
Blood does not flow from her.
The gaze is not cynical
Whom are you?
What is it you need?
My Life?
No...My body?
Glass lays broken in my sink, blood as well
Leaving a trail behind me as I walk to the kitchen.
Why do I hurt myself in such a manner?
I kind of enjoy the self inflicted pain.
Walking the streets many look to me as if I am "Normal."
Some comment me on my beauty
But I ignore them and continue on
I hate the fact that they will not see the actual me beneath the glam.
The family murdered recently had been seen walking with a strange woman.
They have no clue whom it is and are still searching for clues...
I wonder.......
Was it me?
Sipping a latte I try my best to recall the nights.
Perhaps its best If I dont know...
But then again blood can be very satisfying.
-sigh-Damn me for being so conflicted.
Oh well the best things in life are the ones unknown
....Oh look at her she looks good enough to kill....
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Title:
A Killer's Lost Mind.
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Artist:
PLUR13
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Description:
An old poem I did out of shear randomness.
Enjoy.
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Date:
05/05/2012
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Tags:
killers
lost
mind
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