Every day feels like a million years
That passes,
The more I grow comfortable
In my own solitude,
But it is a poisonous solitudeHow much more poetry,
Can I confess myself into
Until I am completely empty?Filling the void,
With a musical arrangement of wordsPerhaps the void is not mine,
But a world that refuses to see
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/324574040-288-k7373ac.jpg)