Ballad of the blind whore

Black nails on a chalk board,
hammered in till they bled;
Black hair on the carpet,
pulled out while he fed;

White irides,
red, for she cried;
White soul leaving her,
her body that died inside;

Yellow light in the black hole,
sucked out alive;
Her rainbow event-horizon,;
head-first, she dived’;

Dove into her darkness,
depressions in her light;
Craters in her cheekbones,
she fades unto the night.

Her heavy heaving breath,
now in my head;
Ballad of the blind whore,
alive and also dead.

By: Viraj Belgaonkar

Pen it... or aaa type it. u know what i mean.

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