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The tainted

As the dark hand carasses,
Memories of light
Are forever tainted with an unwashable stain.
The elegant butterflies weep in agony
-as holes are torn in-
Binding them to earth, to never be free.
As the dark hand carasses,
Everything is as if touched by night;
Attempts are done in vain,
Screams voice a symphony,
Look at thee
-scarlet tears fall into the moonlight, as a silent testomony-
As the dark hand carasses,
You have to fight
To stay sane.

(2/23/12)

poem by Alexius Wohler
Added by Poetry Lover
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