Chaos, Catullus
Here in the middle mists of life,
I find confusion my dearest friend.
It creates a fountain of painful strife,
As hours with it I seem to spend.
I’ve crawled inside my soul and died,
It’s cold and grey and bled me dry.
I crawled in here in distress to hide,
It crushed my heart and made me sigh.
My heart’s a shrivelled seeping mass,
Greenish grey with the growing blight.
It writhes upon a bed of glass,
It cannot end this eternal night.
Mi Catulle what a mess you’ve made,
Indifferent in the steps you take.
My heart and soul you’ve ever flayed,
Their weeping chaos is in your wake.
Warrior Princess
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