Picturesque! A perfect nuclear. 1.5 and all that shit. Underground rivers, as everyone knows, keep immense forces under control. Hidden. Kept from the light. And unloved. Swelling; Surging under presure. Filling, overflowing, and suddenly, chaos. Anarchy. Destruction? Maybe, but probably not. The buried awakens. Ressurected? Or just re-animated. A lifeless shell perhaps. Free to roam in the unroamable areas of the mind and life. Wanton. Shades of red all around. Blackened Hallowed Halls. Within these walls, Within this prison, Inside this palace of never ending filth, I lay. Smothered screams are muffled further by the twisted hands of rage, confusion, hate, remorse.... And love. Love, you say? How can love exhist in a place like this? It survives and thrives in the darkest corners of the mind. That is where it is needed the most. I try to escape, but there's no way out. Walls of flesh and putrid denile. Fiery rage with-held. No way out. No way. Run, boy. Run like Hell they say. I run, and run, and run. These halls are never ending. And dark. And cold. And unfeeling. And I collapse. And I cry....
Reason for writing:
I wrote this poem to express some bottled up feelings inside my soul. I hope you enjoy.
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View more poems by Written by : Anonymous Submitted by Curtiss Cox.