Misery
By Laina Wren
With your blood on my hands your eyes glossy and red; loves tormented heart, has but one anger; that of hate, that of death. Come creep with your inner screams; shout at me your cries of pain; show me that life is cruel ignore me with your love; tell me that all is fine, then walk away; leaving me alone. Yet out of the pain, a gentle smile brings tears of joy; tears of sorrow. Innocent yet pitiless; wanting nothing, but, to say I care; I love you, dont be sad, dont cry. Written August 1st, 2000 © on Nov 01 2001 02:54 PM PST 10 • 0 • 12
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"With your blood on my hands..."