On Every Third.

A poem a wrote this morning, an energy went through and still is... its not a pleasant energy. I will try and keep absent from others.
for now here is the poem, its called On Every Third.


On every third
I fall
I Wondered
do I call?

sometimes i do not know my own entity
as dangerous as the rat becomes deadly
i fuel my own anger on your passion
as I wait for my blood to turn crimson

all I see is your eyes hide the lies
all I see is the past burnt to a crisp
all I enjoy is my dreams where everything gleams

On every third
I fall
I wondered
do I call?

misunderstood we did
as we all forbid
you have become my innuendo
an emotion so utterly hollow

your footsteps leaves a trail
that shows every detail
you cant touch an emotion
unless you cary a burden

On every third
I fall
I wondered
do I call?

in the end
is to suspend
never to extend
untill i descend

I will be hungry for beauty.

By Danny Vain