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I shouted within to stop caring.
Ripping the shadows away from me
In order to end the waiting.
Your ghost still haunts the time
And the night is something I fear
Because by 11:54 nothing is mine.
The dream disperses
And I am sitting still
By my line of empty hearses.
Dressed in white among the black,
I am Cheryl to the "mourning".
For when night ends I do not wish to go back.
Do I want to stand out or disappear
When the sun sets?
Closing my eyes is what draws the spear.
I keep my eye on the time
In a panic of unknowing.
Oh darkness, you have never been kind.
I long to sleep away the time I watch
But I am awake as the fog taunts me.
Why can't the future be so thoroughly bought?
Awakened by the voice in my head
That sounds much like your boom
I am distraught—and with destruction I am fed.
Once it all goes silent
I am lost in the white
As becoming lost in darkness is what I aspire to prevent.
—
A/N:
Sorry this one is so conflicting. It's kind of meant to be that way.
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Hope in the Mourning
PoetryCOMPLETE ✔️ Highest ranking: #175 in Poetry! (3/15/17) - Where there is mourning, there is also hope. Despite the struggles and the losses we mourn-mental, physical, or emotional-good can come out of it. But even when there seems to be not hope as a...
