Gray smoke come like ice on the back of his neck wandering down two streets unimpressed by his feats tugging on the robe of a man nobody knew tortured by the devils he thought he slew want of pain to decease serenity stretch slowly without time float forever in fathoms a bothered torn mind knew not come inside and feel the warmth or burn in hellfire- cares not for escape is everything when beauty is not he when decomposed by beauty which is she cares not for purple fingers rotting black slowly scraping down his back whispers forth he in all his tears; sealed by pain quelching fears darkness overtake him to the very last
Reason for writing:
Suicide.
Birth sign: Not entered
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