Poetry gives me life. Been writing most of my life.
In the depths of my mind, a room resides,
A sanctuary of chaos, where panic hides,
A place of refuge, yet a prison too,
This is the tale of my Panic Room.
...
In the depths of my being lies a hole,
A void that echoes of despair and pain,
A cavity where loneliness takes its toll,
A wound where love fails to sustain.
...
Somewhere; somehow
I'm bound to find you in a hidden place.
My name is Death.
I come bearing burned offerings.
...
In the depths of night, where shadows creep,
A haunting presence, a secret to keep,
A tale of darkness, of despair and pain,
In this Gothic realm, where souls remain.
...
In the depths of a fragmented mind,
A labyrinth of thoughts and realities unwind.
Psychoschizophrenia, a delicate dance,
A divergent path from the norm's expanse.
...