Ode To Kill A Thought

A twisted thought from the depth of beyond
Masking it with alcohol or was I to abscond
I wanted to kill, slaughter that cruel thought
But the morality in me, left me cold of sorts
Always fighting with my inner most self
Poor in emotions, my esteem lacks wealth
Psychopath me with a knife that's so red
My thoughts now runaway now I have bled

by Mark Bell

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