Cursed II

Death; that smote me in the heart…
A deathly chill spreads throughout
my emptied soul. 
His sword doth struck me to the Earth’s bosom.
And I deserve this-? 
With every inch of me cut,
and crimson flows on the floor. 
Another cut-
And pearled rubies weep unto my skin. 
Death; that hath suck’d out my last
Breath of life. 
And He gives His thanks to you,
for presenting Him this virgin offering.
Chained with a frosted heart of stone.
And that heart –
Shattered and pieced.
And I curse thee,
before I depart. 
To set your soul ablaze. 
A fire of suffering.
A pyre of torture.
The pain I endured.

 Scornful little thing, was I not? Funny thing is I am still just as melodramatic. It serves wonderfully as a womb for ‘damaged’ material. 

xx,

E.N.

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