Good evening.
Embodied with Black Roses
This is nothing to fear.
Inside the ground lies a shell.
I am flying to my dreams.
For you I shall wait, forever in your memory.
Slumber comforts the living life comforts the dead.
Capture that essence so that we can break down alone.
I, nothing, am forgotten by all.
Little pieces of existence, sit upon a spire. Driven by my insanity,
Removing my fragile self would break me further.
I am content to die alone for there is no one there to mourn.
Thank you.
a poem is a poem,
be it original
or something quoted.
after all,
all we are is dust in the wind.
*snaps for Lateralis anyhow*
While it may be difficult, I assure you of my integrity. The piece I posted is a very early work, detailing, as you have satirically suggested childhood depression. Just to give a sense of perspective.