A poem from my long travels
Last night I saw an image of you,
no longer black with night,
the sky was a pale blue.
You threw a piece of yourself at me,
withered and dead,
you cackled with glee.
How could I survive,
I whipped you back.
It's a little strange,
but I sort of like that.
You shattered to bits,
so I jumped,
but missed.
What entered my head,
was a crippling thought.
The time I spent,
it was all for naught.
As I fell to doom,
it was plain to see,
the error was not mine,
SIMON BELMONT YOU TRICKED ME!
no longer black with night,
the sky was a pale blue.
You threw a piece of yourself at me,
withered and dead,
you cackled with glee.
How could I survive,
I whipped you back.
It's a little strange,
but I sort of like that.
You shattered to bits,
so I jumped,
but missed.
What entered my head,
was a crippling thought.
The time I spent,
it was all for naught.
As I fell to doom,
it was plain to see,
the error was not mine,
SIMON BELMONT YOU TRICKED ME!