This pain... this bitter pain I feel...
Throbbing in my sinful heart... despair... loneliness... isolation...
I... remember my sins... those sins that led me to what I am... I am hated... I am deceitful...
Locked into my reality... I lost... I fallen...
Once innocent... as a child... child's happiness lined my features...
I flew with the birds... I sang with them... I was wild... free... child's ecstasy...
Now... all that has fallen... my shambles of my ecstasy... torn... ravaged...
The great cataclysm that destroyed me... I felt lost... I was weak...
Golden butterflies... swarmed around my little form... dying... in glittering embers...
Butterflies... only the fallen shall see... at the last of their dying purity...
Who am I? Why was I ever even born?
Branches of blood... dripping from my hands... never ceasing its flow...
Stigma... of the guilty... the fallen...
Shamed... dark... bitter... pain of thorns...
Chained in tendrils of thorns... I walk alone... this brooding... path of torment...
Longing for once again... the sweet light...















Comments
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He said that to be an artist you must "study, Observe and train, train, train---" And maybe one day you'll be able to do a perfect circumference!
The feeling of hopelessness, the wondering about self, the longing for something that can take away the pains and discomforts we have caused on our own. I know this world all too well.
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He said that to be an artist you must "study, Observe and train, train, train---" And maybe one day you'll be able to do a perfect circumference!
So good ^_^
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