Madness





                       Madness poet stories
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renaissancew
renaissancew Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   2 months ago
Madness, written at a darker point in my past.
I look back and see the beauty in the pain that once was.

Madness

She can do no wrong; she can do no right.

She can do no wrong; she can do no right. Her heart hidden in shadows so dark and angered,

She can do no wrong; she can do no right. Her heart hidden in shadows so dark and angered, Her spirit frozen, in a time of love beyond her reach.

Her thoughts wail for attention, clawing at her every move.

Her thoughts wail for attention, clawing at her every move. "He's real, he must be" her mind would hiss.

Her thoughts wail for attention, clawing at her every move. "He's real, he must be" her mind would hiss. Of his beautiful face, tis but a made-up dream.

But her body weeps and spasms for one, for whom?

But her body weeps and spasms for one, for whom? She knows not.

But her body weeps and spasms for one, for whom? She knows not. Her body begs and pleads to be released from such a burning torment,

But to her demise, the pleads are in vain.

But to her demise, the pleads are in vain. For every fiber of her core believes in his touch,

his words,

his words, his spirit,

his words, his spirit, his head,

his words, his spirit, his head, and most of all his heart too.

What more is truth,

What more is truth, than the pain of lies?

She sits alone with a heart so weary,

She sits alone with a heart so weary, She has become consumed by her own madness.

A madness of a made-up falsehood.

A madness of a made-up falsehood. ---AuroraRW

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