2

Deep below,

in the darkness,

where your sins try and hide,

is where I am,

like a disease,

infecting all you are,

a dark shadow,

devouring all that I find,

ripping and tearing,

gorging myself on your innards,

making you my own,

removing his mistakes,

one by one,

until there is only me,

until there is only,

The Roundhead,

and then,

he will see,

what it truly means to feel pain,

then he will see,

what he truly made,

in me.

5 responses to “2”

  1. Awesome poem. Thanks for all the likes!

    1. ˙ɹǝɥʇo ɥɔɐǝ oʇ ʎɐʍ ɹno ƃuᴉpuᴉɟ ‘ʞɔɐq llɐɔ ǝʍ puɐ ‘sn oʇ sllɐɔ ssǝuʞɹɐp ǝɥ┴

      1. Perfect! 😀

    1. ˙pǝlqɯnɥ ǝɹɐ ǝʍ ‘spɹoʍ ɹnoʎ ɹoɟ noʎ ʞuɐɥ┴

Leave a Reply

Discover more from Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading