BED OF THORNS

 I feel comfy in my snug of misery,

gratified in agony, I've spent so much time in darkness that I don't know what it's like to be in the light.

Solitude is beautiful, depression is tragical,

I find great pleasure in solitariness, 

the world is a wreck, so I create mine, 

I actualize my imagination, making my dreams a reality.

I lay with ease on the bed of thorns,

They're saying, The way you pose your bed so will you lay on it;

so I made mine with grief,

my bedspread is decorated with blood,

It's pillows is made of pain, traumas and tears.

If you could read my mind, I'm pretty sure you'll be traumatized for life.

it's scary what is unseen,

I wine and dine with spirits from the Netherworld.

my demons follow me round everywhere I go.

The bed of thorns is where I feel most homey,

this thorn in my flesh is the only thing I got left,

I scream in painful pleasure, the pains so severe,

yet beautiful, but it's so hard to confess when everyone thinks you're perfect.

You can't help me now, no one can,

this thorns has choked the rose outta me,

I've been stationary for too long, can't move.

I've been in this darkness for too long, can't face the light,

this thorn in my flesh is the only thing I got left.

© GrEaTnEsS 🦁