The severe strike of his bleeding hand, A sea of scarlet like in no man’s land, Nobody knows, nobody cares, Why is life always this unfair?
Persistent pound of frustration and rage, My life a neglected, vacant page, No one to read these worthless words, The past has no possible cure.
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Dim yet extremely poe like. Keep up the good work. You will be fine. I can relate to these words of hollowness and loneliness. this is a beautiful piece. -god bless-daniel