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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Emotional · #776115
The look of depression's final effects.
The mystery lies within
a heart so broken it can't be repaired.
Such sorrows remain with me forever-
dancing satanically, in a maniacal fashion.

A heart so broken it can't be repaired?
You may ask me that, and I'll tell you it's true.
After all that's happened to me, I've lost faith.
Let the moths nibble at my rippled flesh.

Such sorrows remain with me forever.
They eye me evily as I gaze in the mirror.
My sorrows won't leave me; I am the new host
for these undying parasites.

Dancing satanically, in a maniacal fashion,
I am haunted by failure, my only virtue.
Need not be a purpose for me
except to take up this Earth's precious space.
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