A paining hurt and a Healing Lord...
Dedicated to: Suhail (for helping me out with the rhyming words! Thanxz)
My ink is running wild on the paper,
My eyes are flooding with tears
It’s almost as though, the pain in my heart is afraid to face its fears.
I can’t see what I’m writing,
And my paper is covered in blotches
The candle that is lit by my side
Seems not to recognise my bruises
Its wit is wilted and black
As for me, I feel the same
Can it be that something so sad starts
Tearing your insides, and feeding on your pain.
When my eyes are dried and my tears are long gone
I look down at my paper and see what I have done.
The paper is dark and sweaty from my damp and clammy hands
My pen is wet and slimy from that I can understand.
As I turn out the candle and let my thoughts drift away,






