My Blade Poem by danielle wiltshire
My Blade
I have a bkade in my hand,
Ready to drive it through my skin,
But yet it crashes through a vein.
The poison is driping down my arm,
And the feeling keeps me calm.
There's someone coming up the stairs,
You rush in a panic,
But the poison keeps on driping.
It's to late,
The time has come,
I wonder what shall i do?
But a voice says; -
'Nothing, just except that the poison is you! ! ! '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/27/2024 3:15:04 AM # 1.0.0.1119
