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In The Evening Mist

Violet Stigmata


To see headless bodies walk, I was not prepared.
To hear faceless people talk, I was not prepared.
The sun is going down, eternal night over the land…
To run like a hunted beast, I was not prepared.
To hide here in the mist, I was not prepared.
To feel what it means to be alone, I was not prepared.
To feel like there’s no skin on my bones, I was not prepared. To lose my very last hope, I was not prepared.
To put this gun into my throat, I was not prepared.

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