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by Kiara Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Prose · Other · #1243678
One morning I woke up and this was in my head, demanding attention.
Swirling down into the abyss
The darkness is consuming souls
Destroying happiness
There is a black pit of anger
Growing inside at the center
Control is slipping
The icy slop is slick
There is no traction
In this world there are many alone
It is a common ailment
Why do we need a cure?
We are strong
We need no protection
In reality we live in fear
Who would love a used woman?
Who would protect her?
Who would give her traction?
We are a doomed race
Men are not strong enough
Men are not brave enough
Men do not care enough
We have become lost in technology
We are too many
The struggle for survival has changed
Our instincts have been rewritten
We are a race doomed to failure
We cannot find a cure
© Copyright 2007 Kiara (kiara at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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