An old think i wrote. It was my first POEM ever.

When the birds sing are they crying of grief, or is it just me that weeps?

I swept the kitchen floor, then I heard a knock on my front door.

it is not real, but I can't help but feel. 

Feel the hands of my only joy when they crumpled like the soldiers in Troy.

My heart aches, my hand shakes, my soul quakes.

What did I do? Who knew—Who knew that my sun would no longer shine?

Please, God, is this some sort of sign?

Are my sins so in the flesh that my repentance is no longer fresh? 

Have I sinned so dearly that you bring me this suffering by your own hand?

To take—to take what was rightfully yours but given to me from your holy land.

I have grieved for the darkness of the other world, I have been seized by my loved ones by their tender hands. 

As I lay in bed I pray for help. I pray that my sun will join me in my impurity and earthly flesh, but his heart was just heavenly blessed. 

The stain in my heart and the stain on my hands beg me to ask: Am I still sane?

It's not the same pain as losing a parent or a brother, it's not the same pain as losing a friend or a lover.

It is entirely other.

The pain rips at my heart, feeding my darkest thoughts. Seeding my mind with dark desires, will I ever be free from this unholy hour?

The weight of the blade shaper then any word. My whole existence a messy blur. 

As it pierced my heart, I felt my sun's hand guiding the blade, leading me to my eternal grave.

My creator's tears falling from his land. up there I will not go, for I have led myself through bloody snow. 

The devil will claim me as his own. My sweet sun, his mother will never know. He will never see his mother again, Soon he will know. Her sins go beyond flesh. They go into the soul.

If only she had waited for her time to go. Then maybe she would kiss her son's head,

Igniting their spiritual goal.

...

I dont really mind if this is bad since it's so old, but I just wanted to post it for the kicks.