As blackened heads comes gritting modern life
I've come to try, to bring to terms – this hollow life
The rusting tins that belch – Oh! Sweet Nothing!
Where would one be kind to find that simple something?
Glorious armies come wreathed in medals of gold
It appalls them, truly what monsters they mold
An attraction set to entice desire
With lessen burdens to reach the spire.
Interspersed – the wandering thoughts
A grinding, empty that brings in fraught,
Comes creeping, creaking, ever so,
With tiny moves to its dimming glow.
The cymbals – they ring for me in me
A signal so cosmic – it beckons me,
Awake! – one must be to feel
The feeling, that breaks and forms the seal.
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A Float through Night Skies and Other Poems in Youth
PoetryA Float Through Night Skies and other Poems in Youth is a poetry collection written from the eyes of an existential and disenfranchised youth. It details themes such as Love, Family, Loneliness, Desperation, Transcendence as well as Suicide. These p...
