PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Time and solace, what does these mean to me

No idea, It's hard to see the forrest through the trees

Time is ever twining and solace, solace is a specter

A specter of longing and promise for peace

But peace as Tybalt says "Peace? I hate the word as I hate Hell."

For I know not of Peace.  From the time I learned to feel

Peace was the promise of rest

But became the rocky ground from where I fell

Peace was the promise of slowing down

But became the wildfire that scorched my dell

Once there was this bounding soul

Now all that's left is this broken shell

Once there was this vibrant being

Now all that's left is a burnt, dried out husk

Once I longed for the Sun

Now I live in dusk

And this, this is all of me

Not a lot of flowery words

But this, this is all of me

Not at all of happy words

But this is all of me

I tried to live life with what life gave to me

But how do you live when what life gives only hurts

But this is all of me