The Hurt


The darkness creeps with silent step,
to visit as my shortened breath.
Leaves me in a state of mind,
that haunts me till the end of time.

The force that drives my beating heart,
is slowly being torn apart.
I'll face my demons in the end,
as my body breaks and bends.

The reflection of hell on every face,
my past through my mind does race.
How could I have done what's known as true,
could it be that im doomed too.

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This Poems Story

This was hard.