Anger and hope
I guess that's all I'm made of, maybe that's how I cope
I threw my heart into thunderstorms, hurricanes and tsunamis one after the other
Thinking that to find happiness I would first have to suffer
This kept me Hoping
Just hoping that in the end, the pain would be worth something
And I would find a beautiful sunrise filling my life with a mesmerising glow
But now I realise I just needed to feel my emotions over flow
Whether it was from hope or anger, that didn't matter
I didn't care if it brought tears or laughter
As soon as I got a taste of the high you could give me
You became my drug and I just let the thought of you consume me
About the Creator
Tortured Soul
The soul careened blindly through a void where it scraped against the walls of a narrow tunnel, amassing a cumulative friction that created all the heat the devil would ever need to torment it. There was no light at the end, not even a fire. From the bottom a cold wind blew, and the clash of extremities spawned vapors of terror in the deadened and numbed appendage that was this strange, delirious, drunken consciousness.
By C. Rommial Butler6 days ago in Fiction
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