No Child Of God Poem by Chelsea Hansford
No Child Of God
Twisted sentiments,
Of a vague description,
A warped taste for blood,
And my own conviction.
Oh, summon me
Through gritted teeth,
I hide in shadows,
What lies beneath?
I am the Hero,
A past that lies,
A grimms fairtale,
But in which we die.
Standing strong,
This wasted labour,
A child god could,
Never favour.
Grieve for me,
For I am shattered,
A world in which,
I never mattered.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/7/2024 2:55:03 AM # 1.0.0.1119
