Presentation
Blodgrupp: 0
Jag vill möta någon med AB
Jag ljuger om min ålder. Jag är pacifist.
Jag är inte så galen. Men ni får gärna tro saker. Manga: Naruto, Yu-Gi-Oh!, Dragonball, Inuyasha, Ranma ½, One Piece.
Kliv in på egen risk
Mitt mörker är mitt mörker, och det får ingen ta ifrån mig
~Insanity~
I feel the dark cold clammy touch of it
It haunts me in my dreams
It makes me cry and wonder why
I suffer as I do.
I wonder when it will go away
When the pain will subside
But as I sit here in my false reality
My mind and soul slowly die.
My tears stain my cheeks as they slide down my face
It hurt so long, so long
I've kept these tears deep inside
That relief is bitterly sweet.
My head is pounding and my brain is swimming
My eyes are red and sore
I feel my heart is at its last
I can feel the fear no more.
My body is slowly numbing
The pain is almost gone
I close my eyes and prepare myself
For my mind is at its last.
My throat goes dry as sand
My skin is freezing cold
But I lie awake
Eyes as wide as ever
But my mind has become no more.
~Broken Wings~
I can’t fly anymore,
I was never meant to,
I can never soar,
With my broken wings,
The words I sigh,
Are lost in the wind,
I cannot reach the sky,
With my broken angel wings,
The thoughts are turning,
Deep inside my soul,
Tears in my eyes are burning,
Because of my broken wings,
Was this meant to happen now?
I have cast my ideals aside,
I don’t why I am or how,
Alone with broken angel wings,
To heaven I cannot fly,
I am held down by despair,
Why do I even try?
I have but broken wings,
I walk my steps alone,
I have nothing,
Nothing to call my own,
Except my broken angel wings,
I have a hole inside of me,
It consumes my mind,
I cannot fight myself free,
Hampered by broken wings,
There is no one who will care,
Or protect me,
From others when they stare,
At the angel with broken wings,
I live without a spark,
Walking in solitude,
Treading lightly in the dark,
Dragging my broken wings,
I can’t fly,
I can’t see,
I can’t die,
I have but broken wings.
Har jag varit isolerad för länge?
Världen är förutsägbar.
Vänder alltid ryggen åt en.
Ska jag göra detsamma?
Ska jag lämna mina poetiska texter och börja ett nytt liv?
Är det försent...?
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