Every myth has its origin,
what shall it be
for the one in me, none has seen?
.
Like a cannibal in my heart—
it eats me inside
yet none in you see,
the tempest it brings.
.
In vain have you poured yourself,
over the wine of my lips;
in search of nectar—
whilst I laughed at your wishes of immortality.
.
On the ink of my page;
seldom have you ventured out—
tiptoeing on sins;
seldom has one seen us
drowning in our own.
.
There shall be a day;
someday—
asked of the key;
The soul shall utter "I forgot"LOKI
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MIRROR OF ME | Poetry
Poetrya dance to the fleeting emotions, notes to the music of life, a story of everything felt and told yet still, so many stories; so very untold. Of nights spent in solace of people so much more. Rankings: 🥇#poetry - 40 [26/12/23] 🥇#po...