Untitled # 7

Infected my tissues, 
your lust shown 
as scars on my appendages, 
Wounds heal overtime, 
overcast 
my desire with this sedative, 
So dream of that angel, 
crimson wings, 
Halos broken from the arrogance, 
My intentions were pure, 
not to harm, 
But destruction is my therapist..
Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

Poem

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