In this world i feel apart. Walking into deliriums that just seem to create a void, a void into the heavnens of my soul and the hells of my mind. Simplistic variations of this angelic moment of serenity have brought me to this piss-stained memory of forgetfulness. Without the ecstacy and agony i fall. Drenched in her enigma's and lost in her dogma's, i open a new constellation of maddness. I find that the ecstacy stays the same and the agony always follows new doorways.
Reason for writing:
the stars, the heavens, the hells, and the heart-formed hate.
Birth sign: Not entered
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by October O'Dowd.