05 The Open Fields
The sinking burning gas
of the end of the day.
I feel this hurt.
Sinking, sinking,
slowly drowning in this
orb of reality.
Out in the open fields.
I'm gullible.
Fickle.
Unbalanced.
Laced with lies.
Here is the truth.
In the open fields
I'm tucked away
hidden in reality.
Yet they pluck me.
Such luck they might say.
Swayed with words.
So bruise my ego.
Here we go.
Out in the open fields.
I lay under the darkest hours.
Yet it feels like seconds.
Bottled in a glass.
And locked away
in a vault.
Out the in the open fields.
Im at fault.
The flawed.
Tired of life.
Where they held
my lifeless frame.
Tamed my wild.
Caught me like a drop of rain.
Fierce yet maimed.
Left me unnamed.
Out in the open fields.
They paused my tale.
So that they'll play their game.
Out in the open field.
Where I wilt.
Where the flowers grew
back as thorns.
nattzwrites511
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Fragile Realities
PoetryFragile Realities- At certain extremes our orb of reality shatters when we least expect. We are forced to unleash our demons, watch them battle with the good. In the pitch of the darkest hours, here is a twisted tale of how we are trapped and tangle...
