Sacred To The Truth
Promises are broken.
Sacred to the truth.
In the way of happiness.
Are too many of my lies.
From today into tomorrow.
Made from sorrow.
My road which leads to pain.
I am alone.
Without the shadow which shades
I walk downhill next to life.
I am dead.
Breathing to feel alive.
There is no sun to the shine.
I am grey before the queen of black.
Blood on my hands are the blood on my shoes.
I have the knife inserted into my back.
So go ahead.
Pleaser push the chair.
I am roped by my neck.
And one more fact.
I am ringed by the noose.
I really love to loose.
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Comments about this poem (Sacred To The Truth by Unic Cjonr )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
Rainer Maria Rilke
(4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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