CONQUER
Thoughts, Ideas, voices
Thursday, 24 December 2015
POISONS
Sadness laid out a million shrapnel drowned in potions of poisoned venom
And calls
Come, dear. Walk to me and die! He says
And I do.
Gingerly at first, then quickly
To his promise
Of erased pains and all things past.
Ah! Beauty!
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