I've met the devil... laughed with him...
we've bound each other's anthem...
we shared some moments, most of them intimate...
'cause he was more than a mate...
'cause he was actually a lost 'she'
riding the nights after a long spree...
I damn remember it so well
how I smiled and awaked the passion's hell...
it was wild and hot like summer
it burned my soul and lost my manner,
my way of seeing things objectively
it took over, most of likely
the bad romance, splendidly,
of two young passionates' chemistry...
but it seems they're dissipated...
into the dark abyss they've emmigrated...
I don't know if that is good or wrong...
now it seems i'm rummage arround
I miss the pain of mischievous smiles
those days are enfact my life's files
framed in a chapter called 'peach'
well hidden so no one could reach
and try to steal those precious moments
those high and delightful emotions...
I kill my soul with every single day
I ask this satan not to run away...
to stay beside me 'cause it's better
so we could share the evilness together...
although I'm still a trembled spirit,
and my soul is like the pea grit,
I don't want a preach of who
you should allways stick to...
I love again being burned out!
it's just me I'm talking about...
wanna judge me? be my guest!
I like this demon on my chest!
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Comments about this poem (My evil... by Claudiu Hordila )
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
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