• terror 9w

    She

    Punching the walls and writing with blood
    From the depths of despair you scream to the skies
    There was a storm going on in her head
    And a war, the soldiers had tears in their eyes.

    There is a white room with sorrow inside.
    No doors, just a wooden broken window.
    The time had filled it with the pain
    That was felt, the glass was cracking, slow...

    When the window was finally cracked open
    And all the sorrow kept inside-released,
    Everything around was cinder and fire
    Everyone looked at her like a beast.
    ©terror