Image for the poem insurrection


delicate beauty behold me and tell me what you see
a tortured soul is before you pleading
call back the pain or I will in peril's harm fade
I am a child of scorn
so much so it scalds  
treacherous faith I am beholden, release me
seek me no more inside my prayers  
 they never make it to heaven anyway
choked on the violence of my tongue
cut away the nothingness and bleed
my rebellion notorious
is my presence so obvious in the need?
sanctified indignance  
cast to the winds
so I can stick in your nostrils
the smell of death
poisoned epiphany let me know it. finally
resurrect this old soul no more
Written by crimsin (Unveiling)
Author's Note
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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