enslaved
blood drips down my sickly body.
blade like a brush dancing across my delicate skin.
painting a lovely picture.
a puddle of blood and tears pooling at my feet.
this is how i go.
at the command of the blade, my lover.
my enslaver.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.