deepundergroundpoetry.com
Poetic Firestorm
It’s a firestorm
that rages… and whirls… within my body,
that no hand of sanity can smother.
My innards burn,
my blood boils,
the flesh upon me bubbles.
Sane, as I may have been before,
the virtues that encased this body with innocence
has long but burned away.
that rages… and whirls… within my body,
that no hand of sanity can smother.
My innards burn,
my blood boils,
the flesh upon me bubbles.
Sane, as I may have been before,
the virtues that encased this body with innocence
has long but burned away.
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