Lost To Insanity
In my last grasp on reality
The wire wears thin as I sit ready
My lips, dry and cracked, for the being's want
A demonic voice backs mine as I attempt to speak through them
Then I am solely a pawn in a game I wish not to play
I'm on a killing spree, warming up for the final cut
Not random they are, but rather so accordingly
Across the floor in a rug fashion
As the lion forms the hunt and gathering
We'll find out just how much they're worth
I'll leave her lying in the ground
To never again, never be found
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.
