The Room This stagnant room, Air currents full of exhaled breath Full of souls' death. Putrescent with broken illusions- Lost innocence. This room's a mess Hate going around no less, Full of souls' death; Vampire sucking life dry- Dear monotony. Walls sweat blood Phantom frozen tears in flood, Full of souls' death. Aura colored with desperate need- Primitive drive. This poem sucks, Everything's worth a coupla bucks; Full of souls death; Greed choking, unfulfilling,need- Base addiction. The spinnning walls My agonizing perspicacity, reality falls Full of souls' death, I pass out from lack of vitality- Dead living. |