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by Louisa
Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1961540
How depression feeds on your soul
in the shadow of the forest
on a bed of rotten leaves
where life and death can't coexist
sleeps the king of callous thieves.

in times gone by and yet to come
the callous king would steal
the soul of every wearisome
turn their hearts to coldest steel.

the heartless soul would wander then
alone unloved despised
while darkness shining brighter
in the callous king's cold eyes.
© Copyright 2013 Louisa (lourisa at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1961540-The-Curse