deepundergroundpoetry.com

a chance never givin

lay on the 
                                     shadow
   black
                    grass
rise up and rekindle all the memorys that 
                       hath
    been
                           harassed
listen to the 
                sorrowful
          howling
                                     wail
for all those who 
             contiue
   to 
                            fail

the red cresent moon rising 
               high
and 
                               bleeding
the limp, dead bodys cast a warning 
        to
                             be
   heeding
one shattered soul takes in the
             blood
  and 
                          flesh
her blood stained hands still 
                                 crimson
         and
fresh

the only thing more dead is the hole 
                     bored
                in
      her
                                           head
to be her you must know what it is when a souls dead
       to
 be
                           truely
              alone

to out live all the blood 
          stained
                                      ties
to                    home
a black cloak and veil cover the 
    gaustly
                                                 skin
she's a being that 
           shouldn't
   have
                                                 been
always wearing an unseen mask
           no
one
                     was
                able
                                       to
       ask

what tragety had been 
     in
                     her
past

no one could ever have guest how long her 
                    pain
                                          could
         last
a past the world never gave her a chance
                      to
       forget

as if the world feels her 
                             death
  filled
                regret

bearing the cruel curse she 
         had 
been
                        givin
in a way she is 
                always
      livin
like a poisin dart embeted in the 
                                  soul
          domain
slowly eating away till the
            body
                                           is
          all
                         that
                 remains

can't count all the blood line roads 
       of
                    her
              war

the deaths fall down onto an unmarked score
                a
   girl
            forever
                         sixteen

to her life is 
       cold,
hard
                                        and
                   mean
her chance was taken away
        never
                      to
                be
   returned
Written by bloody_raven
Published
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