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Your soul.
It shimmers.
It dances.
It looks like life.

Your soul.
It bleeds.
It drowns.
It looks like death.

Your soul.
It weeps.
It withers.
It splits in two.

One side is white.
The other is black.
And I know the middle is red.
Red like a rose.

One side brings love.
The other brings hate.
Or do they both bring hate?

One side is white.
The other is black.
The middle, it’s turning red again.
Red like blood.

Your soul is bleeding.
It’s bleeding black.
Black poison blood.
It won’t stop.
It will never stop.

You gave me your soul.
Look what I’ve done to it.
Aren’t you proud?

You told me to fix it.
I’ve just made it worse.
Are you still happy now?

Now it’s dead.
Now you’re dead.
Now I’m dead, too.
©2009 ~Mirax3163
:iconmirax3163:

Author's Comments

This is one of the first poems I've written for my own personal enjoyment. I'm actually pretty impressed with my skill, I had no idea I was so good at writing depressing things.

Comments


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:iconripjaws-girl21:
this is really good.

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I'm not insane, just mentally unstable. Is that such a bad thing?
:iconmirax3163:
Wow thanks! :D It being my first real poem, that means a lot.

--
"Many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our point of view." --Obi Wan Kenobi
:iconripjaws-girl21:
you're very welcome. ^_^

--
I'm not insane, just mentally unstable. Is that such a bad thing?

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February 13
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