10 апр. 2024 г., 19:13

Corrupted 

  Поэзия » Свободный стих
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Why can't I stop
all those feelings, these thoughts?
Was my heart meant to be yours?
My mind is playing tricks,
As memories hang from the abyss,
Sipping wine in a filthy glass,
All alone in a place so dark as my past,
And when it overflows, what should I do?
When it's corrupted, like me and you,
I'll lose in the end,
And I fear that's your plan,
Who was ever so proud to be the one,
That lusts and breaks my soul.

© Кристиана Петкова Все права защищены

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