Suffer the pen
That has to write what I say,
Suffer the words
That have to serve my brain,
Suffer the light
Serving the dark
It seems unworthy
Of this task.
Wounds open and bleeding,
Made worse by the day,
Silence will eat me,
And relish my pain.
All of my deamons
Come back again,
These are the words
That I can not say.
be careful when you dwell in suffering, as others have told me since i came on here, there really is no end. best care, Sus
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Light serves many purposes, one of which is to direct the soul... I don't know if this is your voice here. Whoever might feel the dark this much, know that there are ways out. A pained, potent lament...