Riddles of the mind, riddles of the heart.Sympathy is blind, but i guess it's a start.
Dreary windows of a soul tainted, left so impure.Is it possible for a demon to be sainted? I'm not really sure.
Impulsive actions and agony seems to be the toll.Drenched and weary, destruction of my very soul.
Discontent with all the masks that I use, to cover the real me.I'm pitiful in this darkness, yet I can't seem to flee.
I can't escape this vile place, deep within.So I wait in this darkness, for my soul to feel somewhat complete again.
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Comments about this poem (Darkness by Joshua Crumpton )
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- All cut jokes, hasmukh amathalal
- Finally Freed (Unbound), Dylan Attard
- This materialistic world هذا العالم المادي, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- My dream (Naani Poetry), Jesus James Llorico
- The Long March, Malek Haddad
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