Walking through a forest full of greens and blues,

the leaves falling, leaving their marks on the ebon ground.

The breeze, nipping at my nose,

the smell of earth swells into my nostrils and consumes my every being.

Why cant I feel delectated anymore?

Hate, the ender of worlds, and pain the killer of man,

gripping at my throat,

as tears of vermillion roll down my face,

and a taste of copper enters my mouth…

Is it supposed to be like this?

I reach out gaining nothing, reaching out just to feel.

My lungs slowly collapse , all air escaping

I want to feel, please let me feel.

Blood.. Why do you keep pouring out?

Escaping my veins slowly, leaving my body,

Is it because you want to feel to?

Is my body to empty for you?

I plummet to the ground, hands enshrouded by the red liquid, disavowing.

Pain, stands steadily, eyes peering deeper into the expanses of my soul,

Hate, with his fingers outstretched, calmly lifts me from my place,

sending me down the path to glory,

A glory only achieved by those insane,

a glory covered in lies and deceit,

will it let me feel?!

In ways YES! It will help me to feel!

An alcove dusky, and dull, posters littering the wall.

Each one screaming out words of malice

and depicting people of miser.

Only one window,

Standing strait in front of me,

The sun casting his shadow of light, magnetic.

The only escape the only way to feel.

Yet it’s 20 stories up, and no other way out…..

im in creative writing.....poetry so fun....especially since im good at it...and no im not suicidel.....im a dark poet....my poetry will always be about death..hahaha