The dark inside my heart is victorious,
shimmering behind,
cold,
black,
steely eyes.
The coldest chill with a flash of icy grey,
that draws my breath out,
from a hollowed frozen core.
My strength is fueled by the pain of living alone,
feared by those who don’t understand and taunted by those who don’t care,
left alone in a game of solitaire.
Flipping cards waiting for the knave who carries a spade.
Would he,
dig the grave to bury this slave that darkness made.
In a game seldom won,
when the final card tossed,
is done.
AntΓΆnyRΓΆs
Is that your arm?
Yes.
Ohh. I like. π
Thank you πβ°β€οΈ