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Doomed
Willful, stubborn, and obstinate; we hunger for the
Enigmatic, the intriguing, and the forbidden.
Apples to the eye, poisons to the tongue.
Reeking of decay, dripping with the stench of rot.
Enticing to see, to touch, to feel; but-
As soon as we eat, partake of the lies, we-
Lose part of ourselves.
Life slipping away and scattering in the wind.
Damage that cannot be repaired.
Anger that boils and builds.
Minds broken upon the shores of their own-
Needs. A swirling mental vortex,
Eternal and excruciating. Even within the arms of-
Death.
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An acrostic poem I wrote. Pretty simple.