Dark Souls Poem by Drich The Poet

_From my collection RENAISSANCE_

Slowly it nears and it's
forgotten.
Call me the remnant
Of trespassers.
A hubby of pain
I galore with. And a sincere
Lonely truth no one sees.

We grin in pain.
Such sweet poison.
Among foes we carry
The seven orders of death.
Banished from us is the
Sole dwellers that ignites hope.
Must I say this?
Within is a dark soul
Lounging to reap all that inhales.

Like a mass destruction
Its a symphony of history that would
Be written to ridicule your very existence.
Be wary, they spit amongst you
And a clutter of friendship they seek
The very limb that won't heed to this
Would be stranded and judged without a blink.

At the very best,
Dark souls yearn for a hearing
What's the reason for joy if it can't
Outshine pain. Such solace.

Breathing is not enough
We live every day to see a quarter
Difference from yesterday and a table turn for our cause.
Chased from Fogo Island
We forge to dance to the tunes of our music.
Melody from the hands that beat the dead skin to pump joy in our dark souls.
Sincerity is not accommodated.
Try it and your flesh will be left
speechless.

Embodied in us our dreams
That will be, but unsure when.
Crimson tide would always be there
To wash away my joy.
And announce to me how weak I am.

My weapon is only my imagination.
Take it away from me, then cast me to lots.
For now, I will have no use
A weakling I would become
And a merchant of paradox.

Dark soul is not evil
But fighting evil.