The End

by enfant du tordu chagrin   Aug 24, 2008


Roaming through a wasteland, swimming through despair
Reaching for a helping hand, that just isn't there
Chasm yawns beneath my feet, beckoning me on
Weary now I heed it's call, to fall until I'm gone

Broken now I'm falling, rushing to the base
Hurtling ever onwards, to that which I must face
What will be my punishment, to balance all my sins
For me there's no redemption, seems that Satan wins

0


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments

More Poems By enfant du tordu chagrin