Regret, yet too late.
By: Nicolas
Alone I walk this bloodstained path,
lost forever to humanity.
Treachery on my shoulder,
Guilt breathing down my neck.
So many, too many,
cut down by me.
Candles snuffed,
no longer leaving shadows.
Ridiculous justifications for it,
why did I listen?
My proud blade now sullied,
the blood shall never wash off.
Barren wasteland is all that awaits me,
under an ink black sky.
No peace for me,
haunted by day and night.
Dying too good for me,
don’t deserve to live.
“If only...If only,”
they repeat in my head.
Too late for “if only,”
now only, “I did.”













Comments
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"And thusly your wonderland crumbles."
now only, “I did.”
- love those lines.
"Dying to good for me,
don’t deserve to live." --> is it perhaps meant to be "dying TOO good for me" ?
good poem.
--
"And thusly your wonderland crumbles."
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"Barren wasteland is all that awaits me,
under an ink black sky."
-beautiful words right there... i love your poem but.. those two lines are beautiful
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Ahh; the winterwonderland of the world...
So peaceful, yet so dangerous...
Snow.<3
--
"And thusly your wonderland crumbles."
--
"And thusly your wonderland crumbles."
--
ω
..+..Beautiful Lust..+..
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