The Blood With In Me.
Contributed by
Alison
on
Friday, 24th March 2006 @ 12:26:25 AM in AEST
Topic:
selfstruggles
|
Blood, the power of life and death,
Blood pouring out and over my body,
Washing me like a rain shower,
Immersed as though standing in the sea,
I ran to far,
And did to much,
I was pushed to hard,
And beaten all over,
Now nothing but blood streams,
From my hands, my heart,
Blood this warm life giving death taking power,
Russell, Russell, blood,
That which steeps with in my very being,
Giving me the identity,
The English, of Lords and Ladies,
Knights and Queens,
That is the blood given unto me,
I was once so proud to be,
Till I was abandon,
Said that my blood I was unworthy,
I to be useless and abhor,
I should be drained of my power,
For this I became so ashamed,
Of the very blood in me.
So I’ve lost all since of identity,
And wonder forever with out a home,
Told I was undeserving and a disgrace,
To the Russell, to this race,
What should I do?
And who can I be?
When my very blood despises me.
So it must all come out,
Till I have not one drop left,
And to live day by day,
With no blood left in me.
Copyright ©
Alison
... [
2006-03-24 00:26:25]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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