Pathogen Analyst

The lake I lingered as I tossed and turned,

I dipped my feet in a pool of fury-- it burned. 

I scent the smell of burning ashes pondering in the midst,

The nostalgia of a reserved and reimbursing scene, yet

                                       the antagonist cannot repay.

 

The regrettable decisions will come today where you have benignly denied me,

Am I not generous enough to be a part of your prospering future?

 

Before you deny me thrice, expect me to thrive,

Your atrocious hands are not worthy of my scrutiny.

 

 

You have tampered with a gentle soul who is resilient enough to stand,

She is walking upon the soggy evening while looking at demons on the land-

 

Those beauteous memories have etched her skull,

Those insidious smiles have pierced her eyes,

Those remnant lies have bloodied her ears.

 

 

Revise your pitiful words before your worst archenemy in a silhouhette does.

 

Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741