Except I'm tired of the candid, I'm weary of sincerity
Exhausted by the continual critique,
Drained by the sustaining scrutiny.
Take me out, yet the people persist
Take my ambition out, yet the populace's paradigms exist;
You, my Siren, drone over the bustle.
Drown the voices out,
Even for a moment, fabricate fantasies;
Sing sweetly;
Speak over reality
Intoxicate, inebriate, immaterialise
Existence; here with you,
The truths don't matter.
Actuality ends; here vivacity begins...
Overwhelm all that survives.
In this moment, in this mirage
You reside; here I thrive...
~H
YOU ARE READING
Roslyn
PoetryJust a compilation of my daily struggles and poems to summarise them. Wishing someone would analyse them someday...
