Wicked Heart

And beneath my sooty faceless mask always curving to a half smile, there is an everlasting frown, for I have been sentenced to bear the weight of the world on my shoulders, now, and forever.
Poe and his prose and poetry recoil at the sight of my unpleasing display.
Read and fear.
My poetic tales.
Where end grows near.


2. Love

It's the price of love
The unspeakable dove
Who flys in the sky
As fragile as a past sigh

Tears will be cried
The knot can be tied
What can be the gain
Of love, a thing so insane?

Is love really true anymore?
All I can find is hate in this war!
When will the rain cease to fall
And the flowers of love once again stand tall?
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