Drowning by this melody-
the shrouds me with the memory-
the memory of an ashen joy-
now wasted into blood
of anguish that floods
morsels of the remnants
of what used to be whole,
into the cracked coffin
of pent despair.
Yet with tears that gush
from the singing songbird,
and the glinting sunlight
that gilds the air with its
tang of hope,
all of what I once had within,
were still buried under
the snow
with nothing-
but the soot of my dying dissonance.
YOU ARE READING
ꨄ 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑ꨄ
PoetryLife and Death; Joy and Sorrow. They're just two wings to the same body.
