I seem to be afraid of the dark night by night,
burning every piece of me to keep it quiet.
My soul is not the one,
to scarper from the agonizing sun,
and all I keep doing is run,
to be unheard of my own cries.
Sweeping sorrows and praying,
for the unloved tomorrow of the saying.
Shackling my breath away,
I am far gone still I stay,
and all I do is wait
I can't concentrate,
for what's left around this undead's sharing.
Prancing through this blindness,
losing it all and more emptiness.
Sweeping the sins from the hopeless broom,
Tethered to the window of an empty room.
YOU ARE READING
Beyond Infinity
PoetryPoetry is what in a poem makes you laugh, cry, prickle, be silent, makes your toe nails twinkle, makes you want to do this or that or nothing, makes you know that you are alone in the unknown world, that your bliss and suffering is forever shared an...
