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grasping onto the memories
from within the hollow confines of a once bright mind
between the lines of darkness and despair
I fight to stay alive
I find myself grasping onto the memories that have yet to
succumb to the side effects of being touched by the reaper
old memories evolve like the introduction to a distant storm
where the air is heavy with the scent of rain
trying to undo the damage of a moment, unkind
suffering in silence from a deafening dark space
crowded with the voices I couldn't see
when I thought about other worlds
I imagined anything but this.
when time stops and begins to crawl
to the strange hum of an unknown clock
I find myself hoping there's still time
to fix broken promises
mending the wounds
we cant go back to sunsets we didn’t share
but we can watch the new
POET! POET!
That is what we call out when a poem that touches the universe is read aloud and performed well on stage. I say it now. POET! POET!
"we can't go back to sunsets we didn't share" - etherially expressed.
A unique set of experiences
A unique set of experiences seems they only make for exceptional writing. Welcome somewhat back bro. Cant wait till the rest of you is back in your unique brilliance.
Don't let any one shake your dream stars from your eyes, lest your soul Come away with them! -SS
"Well, it's love, but not as we know it."