A Lost Soul with Stained Hands
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A Lost Soul with Stained Hands
The poem basically describes the emotion known as love as a battlefield, and describes a soldier dying on that battlefield. The soldier is not proud, for he has caused harm to the ones he cares about most, and therefore is deeply troubled by it, and feels that he will live with that pain for the rest of his life. (The soldier actually represents me in a sense.)
I wrote:
Death Lurks the Nite
Pain wracks my heart with Grief
I’ve lost my Soul to Time
I’ve lost my faith and Belief
Battle after Battle
Death is Everywhere
I weep and cry for loved ones Lost
And never stop the Care
My heart is Disintegrating
It’s falling apart Inside
I’m hurting, I’m Dying
There’s no point trying to Hide
How do I live? How do I Breathe?
I’ve suffered far too long Now
Perhaps the reason I still Live
Is destiny Somehow.
Perhaps I shall remain a Tool
Of suffering and Pain.
Forever am I a lost Soul
And Forever, shall my hands be Stained.
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