Idea after idea, voice after voice,
Blade crossed with blade
And no other choice.
Blocked by our greed, concealed with fear,
not even the fear that provokes a tear.
One that comforts while silently plotting,
To take people's places and leave them all rotting.
But not out of hate nor spite at all,
It's jealousy alone that makes them fall.
Not because of purpose or rash decisions,
Because it is nature that uses true precision.
It cuts at our heart till we can no longer take,
The smiles on others we ourselves couldn't make.
We long to be happy, and therefore to be seen,
But forever before, and forever more, will such unhappiness have been.
YOU ARE READING
Walking in the dark
PoetryA cocktail of some of my dark poems, going to update it every couple days to a week.
