Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Sacred Scars

These scars of mine, trailing down my
arms and into my soul.
The twilight of my past, reflecting a bitter
sweet symphony.
A single tear of blood trails down a ravaged
cheek of despair.
The sun above beating against my flesh like
broken shards of glass.
A dagger in my heart, dark red blood
dripping down my pale lips.
So what are these ravaged souls on a single
blade of tarnished glass?
A whisper in the wind, a cry of a lonely hawk
on a still blue day.
Alas the trivialities of morality as all morals
are mortal.
Sweet nectar of bitter tea as this throne
of swords bite into my pale flesh.

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