The Words of the Damned

The streets inside of my tortured mind are burning myself alive. The neverending nights gulging in the flames that are dying the sky in bloody red. The crimson flowing in my venomous nether self alike with the destructive nature of the raging inferno that is reaching havoc on all that I thought I loved. I wonder now where the beautifully livid meadow went. The ashened, deceased treelines reign over the shadows of our despair. I am alive but never was to be called living in a way that seemed to make any kind of sense in this dread mess. Who could be bothered to look into the cloud hung skies when the mountains are launching their firey breeds into our aching hearts. Free me from this infinite cycle of hopelessness and agony. Let me fly up to the glimmering silver city. Please let me watch it burn. Scorch the arid turf. Someone else is who I want to be. Rip my essence out of my paralyzed, lifeless body that allows for no more promises to be made. Slowly drowning my own frigid spirit. Resting in the arms of the ghastly reaper that came to collect my long owned arrears. Long live the fallen.