This is just a random poem I wrote a little while ago. It has absolutely no relation to me; it's just something I wrote out of my head while thinking about my fantasy trilogy. Maybe it will be an integral part of the fantasy novels, I don't know. Feedback is appreciated. ; )
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Twisted
"It's not going to happen," they say.
"Everything's fine; you'll be okay."
Maybe they're right, but I can't believe them.
These thoughts are so real; they can't see them.
I can. I can see all these things.
They're dragging me down.
Images of blood and sweat and tears,
Shadows flitting at the edges of reality.
Frozen in place, frozen with fear,
I'm alone, there's no one there.
Just me.
Just me and the dreams, me and the lonely.
Isn't it strange how,
a twisted mind can turn a twisted world,
into something even more terrible,
instead of something beautiful?
Something beautiful,
just like that twisted mind yearns for?
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