u/Eastern-Shopping-734

I have sat with my Grief for far too long, while she tries to mother me back to health. I let her dry my tears and say, “You’ll be fine. Everything is going to be okay.”

At times, when I’m alone and lost, I reach for her hand to hold tightly. She holds my hand back with a gentle squeeze and stands by my side as I navigate through life.

My dear friend Grief knows me so well that she cradles me to sleep.

But as the days grow old and cold, something in me shifts.

As the same tears come pouring down my cheeks once more, my face is full of rage. As I turn my head to look for Grief, she is nowhere to be found.

Instead, it is Anger standing where Grief is supposed to be. I look at Rage and hold her gaze. Through her eyes, I see nothing but fury setting them ablaze.

With wrath tucked away in her chest, I feel a frenzy within me. Out of nowhere, Rage rushes through my veins, making me want to wreck and break whatever is in my path.

A tremor runs through my body as I let out a loud scream filled with anguish, trying to contain my Anger from exploding.

People say Anger’s real name is Lamentation, but then why does she tell me her real name is Ire while wearing a sorrowful face?

I have sat with my Grief for far too long, while she tries to mother me back to health. I let her dry my tears and say, “You’ll be fine. Everything is going to be okay.”

At times, when I’m alone and lost, I reach for her hand to hold tightly. She holds my hand back with a gentle squeeze and stands by my side as I navigate through life.

My dear friend Grief knows me so well that she cradles me to sleep.

But as the days grow old and cold, something in me shifts.

As the same tears come pouring down my cheeks once more, my face is full of rage. As I turn my head to look for Grief, she is nowhere to be found.

Instead, it is Anger standing where Grief is supposed to be. I look at Rage and hold her gaze. Through her eyes, I see nothing but fury setting them ablaze.

With wrath tucked away in her chest, I feel a frenzy within me. Out of nowhere, Rage rushes through my veins, making me want to wreck and break whatever is in my path.

A tremor runs through my body as I let out a loud scream filled with anguish, trying to contain my Anger from exploding.

People say Anger’s real name is Lamentation, but then why does she tell me her real name is Ire while wearing a sorrowful face?

I have sat with my Grief for far too long, while she tries to mother me back to health. I let her dry my tears and say, “You’ll be fine. Everything is going to be okay.”

At times, when I’m alone and lost, I reach for her hand to hold tightly. She holds my hand back with a gentle squeeze and stands by my side as I navigate through life.

My dear friend Grief knows me so well that she cradles me to sleep.

But as the days grow old and cold, something in me shifts.

As the same tears come pouring down my cheeks once more, my face is full of rage. As I turn my head to look for Grief, she is nowhere to be found.

Instead, it is Anger standing where Grief is supposed to be. I look at Rage and hold her gaze. Through her eyes, I see nothing but fury setting them ablaze.

With wrath tucked away in her chest, I feel a frenzy within me. Out of nowhere, Rage rushes through my veins, making me want to wreck and break whatever is in my path.

A tremor runs through my body as I let out a loud scream filled with anguish, trying to contain my Anger from exploding.

People say Anger’s real name is Lamentation, but then why does she tell me her real name is Ire while wearing a sorrowful face?

I have sat with my Grief for far too long, while she tries to mother me back to health. I let her dry my tears and say, “You’ll be fine. Everything is going to be okay.”

At times, when I’m alone and lost, I reach for her hand to hold tightly. She holds my hand back with a gentle squeeze and stands by my side as I navigate through life.

My dear friend Grief knows me so well that she cradles me to sleep.

But as the days grow old and cold, something in me shifts.

As the same tears come pouring down my cheeks once more, my face is full of rage. As I turn my head to look for Grief, she is nowhere to be found.

Instead, it is Anger standing where Grief is supposed to be. I look at Rage and hold her gaze. Through her eyes, I see nothing but fury setting them ablaze.

With wrath tucked away in her chest, I feel a frenzy within me. Out of nowhere, Rage rushes through my veins, making me want to wreck and break whatever is in my path.

A tremor runs through my body as I let out a loud scream filled with anguish, trying to contain my Anger from exploding.

People say Anger’s real name is Lamentation, but then why does she tell me her real name is Ire while wearing a sorrowful face?

I have sat with my Grief for far too long, while she tries to mother me back to health. I let her dry my tears and say, “You’ll be fine. Everything is going to be okay.”

At times, when I’m alone and lost, I reach for her hand to hold tightly. She holds my hand back with a gentle squeeze and stands by my side as I navigate through life.

My dear friend Grief knows me so well that she cradles me to sleep.

But as the days grow old and cold, something in me shifts.

As the same tears come pouring down my cheeks once more, my face is full of rage. As I turn my head to look for Grief, she is nowhere to be found.

Instead, it is Anger standing where Grief is supposed to be. I look at Rage and hold her gaze. Through her eyes, I see nothing but fury setting them ablaze.

With wrath tucked away in her chest, I feel a frenzy within me. Out of nowhere, Rage rushes through my veins, making me want to wreck and break whatever is in my path.

A tremor runs through my body as I let out a loud scream filled with anguish, trying to contain my Anger from exploding.

People say Anger’s real name is Lamentation, but then why does she tell me her real name is Ire while wearing a sorrowful face?

I have sat with my Grief for far too long, while she tries to mother me back to health. I let her dry my tears and say, “You’ll be fine. Everything is going to be okay.”

At times, when I’m alone and lost, I reach for her hand to hold tightly. She holds my hand back with a gentle squeeze and stands by my side as I navigate through life.

My dear friend Grief knows me so well that she cradles me to sleep.

But as the days grow old and cold, something in me shifts.

As the same tears come pouring down my cheeks once more, my face is full of rage. As I turn my head to look for Grief, she is nowhere to be found.

Instead, it is Anger standing where Grief is supposed to be. I look at Rage and hold her gaze. Through her eyes, I see nothing but fury setting them ablaze.

With wrath tucked away in her chest, I feel a frenzy within me. Out of nowhere, Rage rushes through my veins, making me want to wreck and break whatever is in my path.

A tremor runs through my body as I let out a loud scream filled with anguish, trying to contain my Anger from exploding.

People say Anger’s real name is Lamentation, but then why does she tell me her real name is Ire while wearing a sorrowful face?

I have sat with my Grief for far too long, while she tries to mother me back to health. I let her dry my tears and say, “You’ll be fine. Everything is going to be okay.”

At times, when I’m alone and lost, I reach for her hand to hold tightly. She holds my hand back with a gentle squeeze and stands by my side as I navigate through life.

My dear friend Grief knows me so well that she cradles me to sleep.

But as the days grow old and cold, something in me shifts.

As the same tears come pouring down my cheeks once more, my face is full of rage. As I turn my head to look for Grief, she is nowhere to be found.

Instead, it is Anger standing where Grief is supposed to be. I look at Rage and hold her gaze. Through her eyes, I see nothing but fury setting them ablaze.

With wrath tucked away in her chest, I feel a frenzy within me. Out of nowhere, Rage rushes through my veins, making me want to wreck and break whatever is in my path.

A tremor runs through my body as I let out a loud scream filled with anguish, trying to contain my Anger from exploding.

People say Anger’s real name is Lamentation, but then why does she tell me her real name is Ire while wearing a sorrowful face?

I have sat with my Grief for far too long, while she tries to mother me back to health.

I let her dry my tears and say, “You’ll be fine. Everything is going to be okay.”

At times, when I’m alone and lost, I reach for her hand to hold tightly.

She holds my hand back with a gentle squeeze and stands by my side as I navigate through life.

My dear friend Grief knows me so well that she cradles me to sleep.

But as the days grow old and cold, something in me shifts.

As the same tears come pouring down my cheeks once more, my face is full of rage.

As I turn my head to look for Grief, she is nowhere to be found.

Instead, it is Anger standing where Grief is supposed to be.

I look at Rage and hold her gaze.

Through her eyes, I see nothing but fury setting them ablaze.

With wrath tucked away in her chest, I feel a frenzy within me.

Out of nowhere, Rage rushes through my veins, making me want to wreck and break whatever is in my path.

A tremor runs through my body as I let out a loud scream filled with anguish, trying to contain my Anger from exploding.

People say Anger’s real name is Lamentation, but then why does she tell me her real name is Ire while wearing a sorrowful face?

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vqck9u/comment/p483kfs/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=mweb3x&utm_name=mweb3xcss&utm_term=2&utm_content=share_button

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Let my lips kiss you and taste how sweet you are as I curse how good you taste to me.

I let my mouth wander into your valley, just for my tongue to drink and lap from your overflowing well.

Your water is thick like nectar. It coats my lips, leaving them shining with your heavenly dew.

As it trails down my chin, I can't help but give praise to the gods I never knew existed.

Like a man who has wandered the scorching desert for far too long, I drown myself in your secret spring, eliciting a sinful groan and a curse in one breath at how I won't be able to drink from another's well.

You whisper to me, in that breathy, angelic voice, to open the gates of heaven so that both of us can descend into paradise.

You take my breath from me as I plunge into what I think will be my salvation.

Instead, a deep rumbling sound settles through my chest. My eyes flutter, and through gritted teeth, I curse the same gods you made me worship.

Indeed, what they say is true: the path toward heaven is narrow. And with that, I know my soul is eternally condemned, for I shall no longer venture down any path but yours.

Now that you've offered your body to me like a sacrificial lamb, you have awakened the hungry devil within.

You are splayed right before me like a fine feast fit only for the gods to eat. But my hunger is not that of a god, but that of a starved beast.

I shall not partake in a holy banquet, for my plans for you are nothing but unholy and ungodly.

For I shall devour you from the outside in. I will leave my mark all over your flesh as I growl every praise and every curse known to man.

With every bite that I take...

Shhhit...

Oh my fucking God... you feel sooo good...

You fucking made me discover heaven, and in doing so, I willingly damned my heart and soul to you.

Fucking Christ... this is... this is my rapture. My fucking nirvana.

My lady, my queen, thou art divine.

Thy skin is smooth as silk, and soft as a newborn's skin.

Thy skin is fair as fresh cream.

Thine eyes are as bright as the morning star.

Thy lips are as red as the blooming rose.

Thy hair is long and dark as the midnight sky.

Thy form is shaped like an hourglass before which time itself stand still.

Thy breasts are like the ripe, sweet melons on a harvest day, kissed by heaven's dew.

My lady, my queen, thou art loving unto me.

Thou feedest me with words as sweet as honey.

Thy touch is softer than newly spun wool.

My lady, my queen, so perfect and true.... thou seemest to be.

But why doth thy heart rot like yesterday's corpse?

Aye, 'tis a shame to say that my queen, my lady, though she seemeth oh so perfect, yet, she decayeth from within.

My lady, my queen, thou art divine.

Thy skin is smooth as silk, and soft as a newborn's skin.

Thy skin is fair as fresh cream.

Thine eyes are as bright as the morning star.

Thy lips are as red as the blooming rose.

Thy hair is long and dark as the midnight sky.

Thy form is shaped like an hourglass before which time itself stand still.

Thy breasts are like the ripe, sweet melons on a harvest day, kissed by heaven's dew.

My lady, my queen, thou art loving unto me.

Thou feedest me with words as sweet as honey.

Thy touch is softer than newly spun wool.

My lady, my queen, so perfect and true.... thou seemest to be.

But why doth thy heart rot like yesterday's corpse?

Aye, 'tis a shame to say that my queen, my lady, though she seemeth oh so perfect, yet, she decayeth from within.

My lady, my queen, thou art divine.

Thy skin is smooth as silk, and soft as a newborn's skin.

Thy skin is fair as fresh cream.

Thine eyes are as bright as the morning star.

Thy lips are as red as the blooming rose.

Thy hair is long and dark as the midnight sky.

Thy form is shaped like an hourglass before which time itself stand still.

Thy breasts are like the ripe, sweet melons on a harvest day, kissed by heaven's dew.

My lady, my queen, thou art loving unto me.

Thou feedest me with words as sweet as honey.

Thy touch is softer than newly spun wool.

My lady, my queen, so perfect and true.... thou seemest to be.

But why doth thy heart rot like yesterday's corpse?

Aye, 'tis a shame to say that my queen, my lady, though she seemeth oh so perfect, yet, she decayeth from within.

My lady, my queen, thou art divine.

Thy skin is smooth as silk, and soft as a newborn's skin.

Thy skin is fair as fresh cream.

Thine eyes are as bright as the morning star.

Thy lips are red as the blooming rose.

Thy hair is long and dark as the midnight sky.

Thy form is shaped like an hourglass before which time itself stand still.

Thy breasts are like the ripe, sweet melons on a harvest day, kissed by heaven's dew.

My lady, my queen, thou art loving unto me.

Thou feedest me with words as sweet as honey.

Thy touch is softer than newly spun wool.

My lady, my queen, so perfect and true.... thou seemest to be.

But why doth thy heart rot like yesterday's corpse?

Aye, 'tis a shame to say that my queen, my lady, though she seemeth oh so perfect, yet, she decayeth from within.

My lady, my queen, thou art divine.

Thy skin is smooth as silk, and soft as a newborn's skin.

Thy skin is fair as fresh cream.

Thine eyes are as bright as the morning star.

Thy lips are as red as the blooming rose.

Thy hair is long and dark as the midnight sky.

Thy form is shaped like an hourglass before which time itself stand still.

Thy breasts are like the ripe, sweet melons on a harvest day, kissed by heaven's dew.

My lady, my queen, thou art loving unto me.

Thou feedest me with words as sweet as honey.

Thy touch is softer than newly spun wool.

My lady, my queen, so perfect and true.... thou seemest to be.

But why doth thy heart rot like yesterday's corpse?

Aye, 'tis a shame to say that my queen, my lady, though she seemeth oh so perfect, yet, she decayeth from within.

My lady, my queen, thou art divine.

Thy skin is smooth as silk, and soft as a newborn's skin.

Thy skin is fair as fresh cream.

Thine eyes are as bright as the morning star.

Thy lips are as red as the blooming rose.

Thy hair is long and dark as the midnight sky.

Thy form is shaped like an hourglass before which time itself stand still.

Thy breasts are like the ripe, sweet melons on a harvest day, kissed by heaven's dew.

My lady, my queen, thou art loving unto me.

Thou feedest me with words as sweet as honey.

Thy touch is softer than newly spun wool.

My lady, my queen, so perfect and true.... thou seemest to be.

But why doth thy heart rot like yesterday's corpse?

Aye, 'tis a shame to say that my queen, my lady, though she seemeth oh so perfect, yet, she decayeth from within.

My lady, my queen, thou art divine.

Thy skin is smooth as silk, and soft as a newborn's skin.

Thy skin is fair as fresh cream.

Thine eyes are as bright as the morning star.

Thy lips are as red as the blooming rose.

Thy hair is long and dark as the midnight sky.

Thy form is shaped like an hourglass before which time itself stand still.

Thy breasts are like the ripe, sweet melons on a harvest day, kissed by heaven's dew.

My lady, my queen, thou art loving unto me.

Thou feedest me with words as sweet as honey.

Thy touch is softer than newly spun wool.

My lady, my queen, so perfect and true.... thou seemest to be.

But why doth thy heart rot like yesterday's corpse?

Aye, 'tis a shame to say that my queen, my lady, though she seemeth oh so perfect, yet, she decayeth from within.

My lady, my queen, thou art divine.

Thy skin is smooth as silk, and soft as a newborn's skin.

Thy skin is fair as fresh cream.

Thine eyes are as bright as the morning star.

Thy lips are as red as the blooming rose.

Thy hair is long and dark as the midnight sky.

Thy form is shaped like an hourglass before which time itself stand still.

Thy breasts are like the ripe, sweet melons on a harvest day, kissed by heaven's dew.

My lady, my queen, thou art loving unto me.

Thou feedest me with words as sweet as honey.

Thy touch is softer than newly spun wool.

My lady, my queen, so perfect and true.... thou seemest to be.

But why doth thy heart rot like yesterday's corpse?

Aye, 'tis a shame to say that my queen, my lady, though she seemeth oh so perfect, yet, she decayeth from within.

My lady, my queen, thou art divine.

Thy skin is smooth as silk, and soft as a newborn's skin.

Thy skin is fair as fresh cream.

Thine eyes are as bright as the morning star.

Thy lips are as red as the blooming rose.

Thy hair is long and dark as the midnight sky.

Thy form is shaped like an hourglass before which time itself stand still.

Thy breasts are like the ripe, sweet melons on a harvest day, kissed by heaven's dew.

My lady, my queen, thou art loving unto me.

Thou feedest me with words as sweet as honey.

Thy touch is softer than newly spun wool.

My lady, my queen, so perfect and true.... thou seemest to be.

But why doth thy heart rot like yesterday's corpse?

Aye, 'tis a shame to say that my queen, my lady, though she seemeth oh so perfect, yet, she decayeth from within.

My lady, my queen, thou art divine.

Thy skin is smooth as silk, and soft as a newborn's skin.

Thy skin is fair as fresh cream.

Thine eyes are as bright as the morning star.

Thy lips are as red as the blooming rose.

Thy hair is long and dark as the midnight sky.

Thy form is shaped like an hourglass before which time itself stand still.

Thy breasts are like the ripe, sweet melons on a harvest day, kissed by heaven's dew.

My lady, my queen, thou art loving unto me.

Thou feedest me with words as sweet as honey.

Thy touch is softer than newly spun wool.

My lady, my queen, so perfect and true.... thou seemest to be.

But why doth thy heart rot like yesterday's corpse?

Aye, 'tis a shame to say that my queen, my lady, though she seemeth oh so perfect, yet, she decayeth from within.

My lady, my queen, thou art divine.

Thy skin is smooth as silk, and soft as a newborn's skin.

Thy skin is fair as fresh cream.

Thine eyes are as bright as the morning star.

Thy lips are as red as the blooming rose.

Thy hair is long and dark as the midnight sky.

Thy form is shaped like an hourglass before which time itself stand still.

Thy breasts are like the ripe, sweet melons on a harvest day, kissed by heaven's dew.

My lady, my queen, thou art loving unto me.

Thou feedest me with words as sweet as honey.

Thy touch is softer than newly spun wool.

My lady, my queen, so perfect and true.... thou seemest to be.

But why doth thy heart rot like yesterday's corpse?

Aye, 'tis a shame to say that my queen, my lady, though she seemeth oh so perfect, yet, she decayeth from within.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vppxgw/comment/p43sc5g/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=mweb3x&utm_name=mweb3xcss&utm_term=2&utm_content=share_button

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