She believes that all is gold
And not laughter so cold.
Seasons splash her with reminders,
She remembers those childish banters.
She believes they'll come back,
But it paints her in shades of black.
Her dreams crush her again,
She doesn't want to leave her den.
She searches for those feelings,
Staring at endless ceilings.
Yet still, no joy comes at all,
She just takes another fall.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry of Death
Poetry"You kept saying that you would never die, that you would live forever. But here you are, and here I am. Isn't it funny? I'm here to take your soul. Did I mention, I love my job? Oh right! I never told you. I'm the reaper who will reap your life." B...
