i'm making poetry to cry to,
under the shadow of a dim lamp,
alone, but not lonely in these moments,
with pages whispering solace.
the silence thickens,
a blanket of night,
where only the rustle of paper
breaks the void.
words unfurl, like ancient spells,
weaving a tapestry of distant lands,
where dragons breathe fire,
and heroes fight with honor.
i find comfort in their sadness,
a strange peace in their perils,
each tear a bridge to another world,
where reality blurs, and i am whole.
in realms where magic thrives,
i shed my skin, become a part
of tales spun with gold and shadow,
feeling most alive in the fantasy.
the loneliness fades,
as the ink wraps around my heart,
each letter a balm, a promise
of adventures beyond the stars.
here, i am more than flesh,
more than sorrow and silence,
i am a dreamer, a wanderer,
finding joy in every journey.
so, i'm making poetry to cry to,
finding my truest self in these lines,
lost in the enchantment of stories,
where sadness turns to joy, and i am free.
YOU ARE READING
poems
Poesiapoems i've written. i recommend reading from the bottom of the parts and working up to the first one. i promise they get better and more lengthy. the first few poems are rhyme schemes, the rest are free verse peoms. please don't take without credits...
