I see around and I see mushes of drats.
Even the flies have flown off to a fresh flesh.
You walk across the park of the darkened lies,
And recollect the once bright-eyed, done mess.
Irony fills the hollow spaces and drools there,
Even the pests have moved on from this fatality,
But as I roam in that park of horror gloom,
I see once-loved faces, back from reality.
Oh can't you see? It's been raining all the time,
All the time it's been a brink away from a rainbow.
But as you'll look beyond your invisible walls,
You'll find that this rain is the kind that grows.
It grows more and more everyday, never seizes,
And it rains only over the abandoned park.
It rains in every season, none shed apart,
While you're forced to live in a pain that's stark.
Your loved ones will be gone, torn and adrift,
Or maybe they'll leave you with none but graces.
Then you'll head down the park and feel the rain,
Which is cited as the Falls of Faces.
Each will be of new colour, fresh from the sky,
Many you won't even know, wouldn't even bother
But one in them all will be all familiar,
As you'll see it get devoured into a mere odour.
These are not nightmares, they have certain point,
This is a tease for the mistakes of your past,
As you're forced to see that face slowly fade,
Getting eaten by due a painful cast.
This rain isn't supposed to wet you,
But it does anyway, as tears burn like maces,
The colours fade away, then eaten apart,
As you witness the complete Falls of Faces.
YOU ARE READING
A Quarrel in the Brain Park
PoetryJust some poems I wrote, at different points of my life. Hope you relate to them at some point. Also to remember, it's a collection of poems so there are many genres. See if you'll like either of them.
