My minds eye feels blind,
Of late, a feeling remorse;
Seeking no recourse,
Content in this bind,
A strange addiction,
That dictates my conviction.
Transforming like the seasons trees,
The roots dig deep;
To catch what seeps,
Stuck in this hole, trapped with ease,
The hymns of the mute ring out in chorus;
‘Throw us a line, help reassure us’.
A break in the clouds,
Shines light on the fallen;
With a green yellow blur, stolen,
Are their worries, as joy parts the shroud,
Ropes wove of sunshine, thrown down the wells,
Where we reside, consumed in our hells.
YOU ARE READING
The Boney King Of Nowhere
Puisi"There's always a siren, singing you to shipwreck." A collection of my poetry. Hope you enjoy.
