My Curse
It seems that I am terminally poetic. Yes, that is my curse. When I shift into poetry mode, it is as if every single demon I have subdued within my soul bubbles to the surface. Rage, pain, suffering, bitterness, angst, depression, despair, and all my sorrows come to light, and I silently cry out in agony. In these moments, a little bit of myself succumbs to the dark and the demons gain a bit of ground. I pray that I can survive this. Perhaps I truly am a writer of the blood. Oh well.
On a lighter note, I found this website, and it made me laugh profusely. Give it a read if you want to see religion at its worst.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home