Pumping vein exploding in roughly exhumed hands,
climbing razor rocks to the top has been murder to these reigns;
I'd failed to appreciate the sun –
On blackened days, would've kept spirits higher swung,
darkness, only has less than an hour to resemble fun –
The black garners fear to play intricate games spun,
.... nowhere for spectacular hide-away, preserve my face;
Dear, there are only so many places to run –
your heart, can be but as so safe....
as one could make;
Blackened days – we turn and sway,
pleasant dread of a dance, you, so effortlessly create,
I'm underneath slain, solace gaze.
YOU ARE READING
Between an Antidote & a Dreary Phase
PoetryMy second Edition of a variety of Poetry feelings. For all the support and encouragements you all share with me - I do humbly appreciate all that you say and do. The feeling I get when another writer comments, or votes is imperial to how I interr...
