✶
I awoke at the devil's hour,
Filled with the dread of change,
So I lay awake, staring into the abyss,
The shadows that's filled with contempt.
I drive away this sense of dread
With anything else but confrontation.
The unwanted memories,
The uninvited foresight of of what lays ahead.
So I lay awake—unchanged, still and present in time.
I awoke at the morning of July,
At a time where witches flourished,
It is the month where summer ends,
And I dread the finality of its dark and
Beautiful glory.
It is July and I lay awake—hoping for eternity.
-acb.
YOU ARE READING
my poems. nd shits?
Poetryi do not edit them, we die like men here. might update them to make them more fancy but that's unlikely.
