PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The coldness outside is a quiet whisper

For all of its branches beat me roughly with their souls



All that is lost can never be recomposed in this ultra space

For each weapon points its trigger at the other

Leaving no mark or recognition

Forever he is lost in this oblivion of things that never were meant to be



When you touch my face I'm burned with agony

Each frame fades into a colorless image

and where there were once borders now only

is distorted edges that never seem to complete any potential shape



He is forever lost in this mystery

as he rips the stiches away from his eyelids

the ebony liquid drains away from what is left of his heart

and seeps out from a place now consumed by a blurry numbness



There are only pieces of oneself that can still be saved

From within the dark alleyways as each soul looses a song



Each bird that lies slain still sings in his soul

There is no imagination in the nonmovement



All that fades away in the end has spun out of control

the mahagony trees fade in and out of season without any thought

The panting sounds that creeps into your mind have no origination

There is no existence, only that which never was