When is the end;
Where is a a phrase of no mark of interrogation
How is all we can reiterate
Why is the only whimper that comes from within
Whose is the only blaming utensil
Whom is the object of direction
Which is the distinct species of question
What is the most abundant reply to you
I stated the most underrated questions I learned the hard way
to accept defeatto squeeze in the pain
to taste the forbidden fruit of misery
The sun's heat of greatness makes my taste buds go dry
It's a shelter of demons You're locking up a demon in a cage far, far away
There is no absolute guarantee that this will be easy
It won't
Not even a step towards the dangerous outside
Everything comes in shapes
Sizes
Even constants
It comes with restrictions
Might as well accept the fact that hope is not a definite element
You can't even count on a musical device
I could even hand you a piece of me to prove it
I could tear out my heart and put it on your dirty hands
Between your sinful palms
And your grasp of pain
Your fingertips of agony
Your reach of mighty pain
You have done them all
All
And you didn't leave behind a single bit of me to myself
Maybe if I had a little
Just a tiny little bit
Just maybe
I would feel the sense of completion
I would reflex the feeling of emptiness
Throw it away
Shred it to pieces and fragments
My blood would represent the red of my hurting
The amount, that once pumped for you, was all I had
You said that I was once a flower in your rather large garden
You even said
That I could bring my smile back like the burden of proving; proof!
Good bye you
And good night moon.
YOU ARE READING
Mellifluous Murmurs
Poetry❁ Freedom is allowing the crisp air to guide you through this forest we can call society. ❁
