Pained Heart Poem by Crimson Love

The blesilquent babble,
I often hear,
when something whispers,
but truly is not there,
I find myself alone,
wretched in despair,
I baithe my reply not,
yet its consented so...

No choice,
within infinite answers,
I find one that suits me,
death the choice,
I cannot pick,
the choice unobtainable,
for I want it to much.

The Apocrisiary,
hath given no answer,
no god, ever replied,
no love has,
ever held love...
no words ever carressed,
with blatant intent to hold,
no emotion besides pain,
ever grazed the soft muscle of this heart.