The Reaper

(I don't personally have these urges, I just write what comes out)

My veins call to me in the night,

Pulsing with crimson life.

The lines blur between wrong and right

As I'm drawn to the knife

That lays beside my creaking bed.

The muted thuds of skipped

Heartbeats pound through my head

With the rhythm that's ripped

From its place on the bleak spectrum

That controls my choices.

As I itch for the empty numb,

I can hear the voices

Telling me to dig a little deeper.

I shall comply, and embrace the Reaper.

Reviews

[Anand Sehgal]

good write .. "Ecstasy" :D :D:D
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