Dear Reader:



Welcome, to these profound and unyielding chains of chronicles. I must convey that most will not succeed in trying to comprehend my circumstances and my closed off personality. Do not be offended and read with your own risk. That is all I shall say. Continue onward if you dare.





Conceal your thoughts if you like,

SilverStainedCross



Saturday, November 13, 2010

His Fault (Cold Asphalt)

Waiting on the cold asphalt,
thinking everything was my fault.
Thats how I felt.

Was it or not?
The body strewn across the lot,
the blood trickling another dot. 

Clutching myself in the bloody air,
What the hell happened here?

I didn't mean to kill his soul.
I couldn't resist not to pull.

Did he have a spirit?
I think not,
if he did, I can bear it.


Was it too much?
To pierce his heart and such?
Well, he pulled the punch.

His fault, not mine, I think.
Anger took control in an eye blink.
I just wanted him to sink.

Still there on the black top,
remembering how his body plopped,
I guess I popped.
I knew I couldn't stop.

His corpse is cold and wet,
seeing his eyes all set
towards the sky,
I was starting to sweat.

Rain pounded the darkness on the ground,
so I dug a hole where he couldn't be found,
forever, now, I am bound.

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