Last confessions

confessions of a lost soul

This ground we walk on,
Made of hopes of the lost,
And our dreams we have wasted.
With the people the world forgot.

Our engraved memories gone.
Souls are the only cost.
Now that love is sedated,
By the curse we brought.

Now we meet at devil's dawn,
Where our only morals are tossed.
Our minds become fustrated,
With the plague we have caught.

Fears come in a deadly spawn.
The hate burns the peace of frost.
With caring lives infultrated.
We now are left empty, to rot.

By: Glen Jackson