Nights are the worst.
They haunt me with memories that even my heart can't handle.
They have run out of colour to paint the sky blue.
And now its plain dull gray.
Even the clouds have run out of rain.
And the stars have lost their glimmer.
And now its turn into this dark, endless abyss.
When will I escape?
When will I be saved?
When will the sun come up again?
YOU ARE READING
r e m n a n t s [on an indefinite hiatus]
Poetrya collection of poems and untold feelings