A Dead Soul

The sadness mixed into the drinking

glass slightly dulls the pain of existence.

Masterful strokes in the painting of thoughts

begin to form a picture that could freeze the

heart in its beating.

Rejected, Rejectee, my core is unable

to comprehend my feelings anymore; and so I

listen to voices rising from the dust, giving

me the truth; yet for this knowledge I still

burn with the pain of a dead soul.

But I don't want to die. Ever.

Here is the end of the world, I had a feeling I

would see it.

[20:04|08.12.011] ©c.thomas.carter