Vines (amateur poetry)

[Devour]

Your greedy implications are no disguise,
Yet I fall to my knees while you arise
You rip off my days on a sturdy occasion,
Pitiful attempts of helpless evasion

You've grown in with the roots of my being,
You are the nightmares that I've been seeing;
Leeching away the fuel of my soul,
Slowly we've slipped out of control

Inevitably we become ruthlessly entwined,
Webs of insecurities foolishly combined;
Become my impossible, losing touch,
The obstacles have been just too much

Innocent compassion, wretchedly abloom,
Growing its way to weeping doom;
The futile cries of the heart as it dies,
Are unheard amongst the final goodbyes.