It Get's Harder Poem by Chris Tiganescu

These problems worsen with each
breath taken the pain is at no end,
when Cupid finds me the wings blacken
and I am stricken with arrows to bleed,
never ending, the soul is clinging to
a thread and I with it. Eyes dim,
and heart blackens satan in human
form is nockin at the door that you
have barricaded with dry tears, fire is
the plague in our heart, perhaps we
are all doomed for it, perhaps a
thousand suns will be our decider, and
perhaps the pain shall end, perhaps
I will feel the blood ride my skin with
ease and perhaps my soul will be
doomed! And perhaps I will be no longer
a man! A puppet in the shadow of a dark
lord only ready to obey no escape, only
submission. And now I stay I hold on for
the love that it brings, the smiles the warmth
is what I seek so with dying breath
I have and always will... love you.