Flowers Wilt, by Loneliness is condescending Subscribe to rss feed for Loneliness is condescending

Elemental aspirations of wavering intellectual speculation
diminishing this brittle mastermind 
controlling every recollection 
touching delicately on my soul
hands drenched in blood
shed  by a kiss
Posted: 2007-12-12 08:58:32 UTC

This poem has no votes yet. To vote, you must be logged in.
To leave comments, you must be logged in.

2006-01-01 05:39:36lost the lonely dead
i hope you do more with this or is it done its really kinda sad though too