Here’s another poem except it’s completely unfinished and I don’t know if I’ll ever finish it. I’ll give some context at the end of the post, though. Here :

Hatred burns at the core of the unforgiving; far too hurt to make amends for others sins.

The martyrs of their very own hell, fixated on the gates of what is to be ‘heaven’.

Forsaken and bounded by the blood that links both the incarcerated fool and the -

(I know, I know. IT’S SO SHORT. I’m not sure why I never finished this one, but maybe I’ll come back to it… eventually. I do recall I wrote this after one of my therapy sessions and a particularly rough day and just wanted to vent out my emotions in some way. That’s what I usually do when I write, anywho)