Poetry From The Weakened Soul
Author: Neil Evans

Chapter 129
Killed You

We run from the dying,
Their divine, they're lost,
Without us, they're nothing.
We hide them from the
Darkest of our days and
The storms never blow over.

Shouldn't I be lost, then?
Shouldn't I be crying,
Like a bleeding whore?
Shouldn't I be here, then?
I guess I shouldn't have
Killed you back then.


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