Twisted metaphores.

Some jerk reported this as a copyright violation, i wrote this poem myself , COMPLETELY ORIGINAL WORDING, years ago, and IT IS COPY-WRITTEN BY ME.

The sky will cry tears of blood onto the rose of life, and death shall bloom flowering slowly as father time allows it to bask in the darkness shining from our black sun.A sun created by all of the pain and suffering from walking barefoot in a world littered with jagged pieces of broken promises and shattered dreams, a world filled with bleeding ears , deaf to all the hopeless screaming and pointless praying that chokes the air with a thick , black smoke, made of words uttered in fear by life as it drowns in a puddle of its own tears, a puddle that extends to the depths of the very souls of every creature that has been forced to walk on this path to death , that we call life.