Scarred Down To My Precisions Poem by Unic Cjonr
Scarred Down To My Precisions
Tunnelling without the sight.
Burrowing with a vision.
Scarred right down to my precisions.
My tears.
My pain.
My fears.
Insane.
Sanity washed with vanity.
Against the walls of my head.
I pray.
I say.
My way.
Why am I not dead.
I dream with freaks.
I scream inside my dreams.
My madness becomes my sadness.
I am dammed.
I am cursed.
I am reborn.
I am demon worn.
With corn as horns.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/25/2024 8:39:08 PM # 1.0.0.1119
