The mark you wear,
Is of a devils’ creation,
It only masks the demons you hide,
With an inorganic image of a greater evil.
When did you lose yourself to the night?
Camouflaging among the creeping shadows,
And hyenas that cannot stand the shining light of the sun.
No one can save you,
From the pathetically poetic path you pace,
Footprints lay in the sand before you,
The same steps you laboriously take,
Have been traced by so many before.
There must have been a reason,
For the lavish lie you live,
Not the false half-truths you harbour,
Behind those cold, glass eyes,
Which only reflect the shame and sorrow,
That you’ll never be able to hide.
A contest entry
- i want new favorites [[= [the impress me contest] by oldschoolhero.
1800 points, ended July 25, 94 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
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