The tessellation of stars are amalgamating the fabric of my reality,
As I sit in this rock, the heavens above seems to diverge and rotate
The youth of the night is caving in,
Crawling inside the gaps of my fingers, telling the stories of the beyond
A galaxy within the eye of the moon,
And the pink suburbia we create in our wishful thoughts
Star-spangled clouds catches falling stars,
Caught in the eyelashes of something beautiful,
I've got the world in my fingertips, threatening to slip
As I watch all those orbs in the sky come to their end
I see them vanishing in the orange utopia,
The last screams of the youth diminishing,
All those stories ripping away from my grip,
Losing the train of thoughts, making me stutter
My meager imagination joining on all what was lost, and what I'm still losing
The heavens turned bright, and the sun of raging light banished all the stars,
Turning the land into a red dystopia
As I sit in this rock, the heavens above seems to eclipse my dark sky violently
with the regrets of mine
//k.u.
YOU ARE READING
When I Can't Do Anything Else
PoetryWhen I can't do anything else, I write poems. [Became #1 in Poetry a long time ago]
