Wednesday, 17 August 2016

The Scribbled Anticipation.




Really, sometimes I feel so guilty to belong to this mankind. like, what we have done to His fabrication. Just look around; the bloods and smears of hate are seeping into the talus. Even the infants are loosing purity and chastity.
Glancing 'round, it pins my eyes; and the condemnation reminds me of the sins I've never committed.
This world has been too harsh to me.
The fiend faking as swain, leaves pain only.

Like I thought you came here to heel my wounds but darling, hurting w/ daggers is no cure, is it?
Every time somebody falls in these deep eyes, somewhere it deepens the scars to bleed beseech again.

like waves get calm and calmer as the ocean gets deeper; and its easy to loose yourself in deep circumstances-let it be your eyes or the pain in your heart.

And it feels like, like quite dry sky w/ no birds except meat-eaters, hunting for your soul at the dusk.
and on the ground dear wolves are halting for you my love, for it to get dark and hound you down.

But the witless masquerade will never know that it won't get darker than your life.



like drowning near a cruise, but you can't scream. 'cuz they were the one to smash the aegis of your trust.
and seeing you still surviving will piss 'em off to hell, ofc.

But my dear, look around.

The island of love, faith and hope is there for you, still.

~Varia xoxo
 

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