Life is a dream
sometimes it is happy
sometimes it cries
Life could heal, but it could kill too.
I've been cutting inside; wounds crying everytime.
Blood pouring down like red wine falling from the sky.
A puddle of blood that is in delight
Darkness has been around me like a companion.
I wonder what my place in life.
so i ask myself
'is it for pain and misery? ' or 'is it to just roam around within the abyss and the lunacy of darkness? '
Knives would slash like cutting a twig in half.
This is life.
IT MAY KILL.
IT MAY SLASH
I've been through here in circles just circiling in a maze; lost without hope.
Some may say it is a compromise an illusion even that we play on ourselves.
But one day life will be content that day is coming as
And weeks pass by...