Follow me unto the shadows keep,
Walk around, upon flames... feet be fleet,
Let the damned carress the cuts upon thine flesh,
let them drink from these long sought cuts,
A feast of the flesh, consuming all crimson is,
Touch the walls of the shadows lair,
Walk among shades,
never let death, come upon crimson skin,
forever crawling with unsurmounted sins,
Desolate and dark is the crimson soul,
left with this balde, I have no self- Control,
I slice the pain, as I slice my Sins
please pardon, The embarrassment upon crimson skin.
Crimson, though in general I don't care for cutting poems, this one is certainly a cut above. (smile)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Darling, what a beautiful write. Don't be ashamed; the scars are a part of you now.