Dark and cold.
Fear settles in my mind.
My shoulders hurt so badly from the many burdens I carry,
But I still can't understand what those burdens are.
The silence is deafening, the fear still resounds,
All I can hear is the sound of my own labored breathing,
And the overwhelming voices, that repeat year after year
The darkness is blinding, the pain resonates,
All I can see is the crimson-red that stains my hands,
And the dark blanket that is the night sky.
Who am I? What am I? Why am I here?
I don't know.
I cry.
I cry, and I cry, and I cry.
I cry.
I cry, because that is all I've ever known.
And all I will know.
But, alas, I woke;
To a small gray tabby cat, left all alone.
I smile softly, but the feeling was still there.
It never leaves me.
And then, when the darkness begins to show,
And the stars dot the sky,
I lay down on my bed,
Only to repeat the living nightmare once more.
YOU ARE READING
"...Will it ever be enough?"
Poesía(IMPORTANT: This is not something I'm proud of writing, but I am keeping it up for archival purposes) Not all that different from my Oneshot Book, this is a collection of poems I write in my free time. And, just like my Oneshot Book, I will most lik...
