“The Losing Game”

Absolutely terrible from substance to structure. A manifest of why one should never attempt writing whilst under a looming cloud of maddening anger. I wrote this for the sole purpose of  making peace with my questions, but, more importantly, with my answers.

Feel free to tear it to shreds.

“The Losing Game”

Born from filth and cruelty,
I was lost and so I found
Myself in ambiguity,
In the hatred I was bound.

The mist turned ever damper
With the tears of my disgrace,
‘Til a dreaming grieving vamper
Carved a smile upon my face.

She found me in the corner
Of a mind I’ve learned to loathe;
She taught me to be stronger,
Lost amongst the gales of love.

So I lost myself in her
And I had no eyes to see
That my smile had grown to wither,
That she lost herself with me.

Once again my angel weeps
As it struggles and exhausts
And having sowed and never reaped,
I am finding myself…

This entry was posted in "Poems".

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