deepundergroundpoetry.com
Anchors, weights, and other emotions
Drowning, the cold sea overtaking,
like a cruel and evil king
the waves rushing to keep me from surfacing
as is the way of war, always facing
so into his cold and unfeeling hands I go
never sure if I will return or remain below
but I must try, must fight to live
for this tyrant of the world will not forgive.
like a cruel and evil king
the waves rushing to keep me from surfacing
as is the way of war, always facing
so into his cold and unfeeling hands I go
never sure if I will return or remain below
but I must try, must fight to live
for this tyrant of the world will not forgive.
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