For the Soul doth bleed By Timothy Ivey JR

For the soul doth bleeds in horrible agony, in fatal knavery I feel. Mine soul has twisted and thrust into a dark depression from which death kneel. Today the clouds cry with me in the crushing of the spirit. A pain seemingly unending topped with toxic spit. Happiness is foreign to my heart for I know not why my soul doth bleed. Death mocks my suffering and pleads. I hear the sounds of peace, but peace hears me not. Spirits of love wishes me to rot. Rest I pray thee come for my soul doth bleeds in wretched tears Terrible events came to pass by feeble seers. Death and reincarnation helps me not. Death only adds to that which has rot. No escape, only way out is through true love. The joys of the mind thrashed with the feeding glove.