PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I’ve bled enough.
You’ve fed on my marrow.
Your thirst for pain.
I prayed for the morrow.
The sweetest Sorrow.

Love is just a game.
End up burned by the flame.
I’m a pyro attracted to fire.
My unquenchable thirst for desire.
A lie too many borrowed.
It’s the sweetest sorrow.

I was once human.
Now I’m a black widow.
Eight legs are better than two.
Cause’ I’ll have three more chances,
To step all over you.

I’ve bleed for years.
Succumbed to my fears.
What you once took away,
You’ve now replaced.
Yet I’ve never felt so alive.
Until you’ve stabbed my back,
With your familiar knives.

The sweetest sorrow.
If pain is beauty.
I’m your masterpiece.
I’ve given my life,
To your disease.

You’ve fed on dead.
I existed cause’ you believed.
I’ve fed on the living.
I’ve been deceived.

I’ve bled on through.
I’m down to my last drop.
Leeches, like you are never satisfied.
I’m so sorry that I complied.

Love is bittersweet.
Its prey for the web.
A feast for the dead.
I'll pray for the morrow.
Love is the sweetest sorrow.