The voices they call me
Luring me into endless sleep
As I stand upon the tower
Where I spend many an hour
Surrounded by the winter torrents
That cuts so sharply into my skin
As I bleed, my blood of ripe-cherries
A storm is brewing
For my demons are unleashing
Their rage upon my sanity
As I stand upon the tower
Getting weaker by the hour
Surrounded by the Autumn wind
That threatens to blow me away
Into the black abyss
That opens up around me
Only the tower left
An island of my sanity
As I stand upon the tower.
I love this poem. You are such a great writer.
ReplyDeleteNice!
ReplyDeleteIt would take me days to come up with something like that!