at this point I doubt there awaits any morning for me
warm sunlight beams have long ago abandoned me
pale skin from the everlasting dimmest night
awaits the torture by the coming light
all the black paintings on the walls screams my name
calling me to come and be the part of frame
maybe the one and only world to which I belong
has always been that sings me this ancient song
YOU ARE READING
A Dimming Mind
PoetryA preview of a few poems from A Dimming Mind poetry collection. - I've pondered various ways to describe this book, but none felt right. It's not your conventional book-it's a collection of memories, my memories gathered over the years. The first po...
