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Like the sun that bleeds into the water with moon watching,

he Stares daggers into the last of my hope.

This demon only to me,

gently whispering words of the lost,

Cursing those who have been found.

As silent Screams echo

and the light behind my eyes flickers, it dies out,

He has won the last battle,

taken victory over this war

and celebrates by the drinking of my crimson Regret.
©2009-2010 ~SadEyedKitty
:iconsadeyedkitty:

Author's Comments

...I was a moopy teen...

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January 3, 2009
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