Thursday, September 13, 2012


Old
9/13/12

The arms of my mind
Reach the ghosts of the past
As old paths unwind
And lead me home at last.
My heart throbbing sorrow
And turned black with wrath
You know what I need
On your flesh I can feed
But you keep that which I must confess
I was wrong to give my soul to rest
Into your cold and dead caress

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