Penocide. By: Sule. (Poet/Writer/Musician)

Penocide


Hands drenched in massacres.

 Whoever knew writing 

bloodbaths could cleanse 

the soul that overflows 

with last words. 


Last night you made a promise 

to the sun, that as long

 as it rises you will never 

despair. 


I overheard you

 over the silence; your

 words were 

golden. Never let 

them take that from you.