The Book of Life

It isn’t lack of remorse or an
inability to love that keeps
me from tying myself to you.

It is the forthcoming break in
the path lined in dreams. 
One that can only be seen by
the subliminal mind of a fiend. 

These next few chapters must
be written in the solid black ink 
coating the ashen wings of free,
and I must finish this book alone,
with a pen drawn from isolation,

Even if it kills me.

– B. 

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