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They have bled over my eyes,
but I shall never grow blind,
for I have seen all but forbidden thoughts.
They have wept over my life,
but shall never wither and die,
for I have lived in the shadow of time.
What shame they have placed on me,
to suffer by the hands of emptiness.
What cruel intentions that now must be,
to prolong such torture felt in loneliness.
They have torn at my heart,
but it will never grow grey,
for their hands just fell away.
They have spoken such ill,
but the words fell on deaf ears,
for the words were said by many before.
What pity they have thrown at me,
to be none but a wasted carcass.
What lost pretensions keep them happy,
to entrance poor souls in their aftermath.
They have stabbed at my soul,
but I have shielded it away,
for their actions and knives are blunt.
They have defaced my solemn place,
but I have suffered not pain nor fear,
for I lost those emotions once before.
What strength they have removed from me,
to be seen by them as a bitter, weak fool.
What countless times they did spit at me,
to spurn me, and eject me to the fires of hell.
They once bled over my eyes,
but they are the ones who fell blind.
They once for me threw pity,
but they reside in wasted shells.
I no longer care, if they stab for my soul,
for I no longer hold thoughts to suffer...
(c)2001 Luvadea DeMortessa