The Bare Soul
My soul is bare,
stripped by the
unraveling reason
of lies wrapped
in promise,
of betrayal
cloaked in
innocence,
of faith worn
by the eroding
tide of the
endless bitter.
"THEY BLEED THEIR ANGER INTO OUR OPEN WOUNDS AND THEN CURSE US OUR POISONED SOULS."
2 Comments:
exquisite
I second that.
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