Amusement Of A Tortured Soul
Shadows walk among the living
in their own little sections
of solitude and depression.
Silent floating specters.
And I walk with them.
For their state of being
is easy to fall into
and make your own.
Dark and silent,
we bring the cold lurking depression
that flows from us so easily.
We have so much of it to offer.
So shall you partake in this game willingly,
or will it be thrust upon you?
Perhaps when you're sleeping,
or maybe when your guard is down
our misty fog shall creep
into the cracks and crevices
of your mind
until it is filled with it.
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poem by Keegan Bourke
Added by Poetry Lover
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