Now, I can close them both.
Siren cries, I no longer fear.
Incoherent & sublime lies, I don't have to hear.
I may not have a choice;
I am still pretty much doomed, too.
But I no longer dread seeing phantom little you.
I've got my sweet escape,
Where I can easily ascend.
Away from you, away from this beautiful pretend.
I can sense it all now,
Decipher; real, unreal; feelings.
And now, it's time I woke up from this phantom dreaming.
YOU ARE READING
Reflections of the Son 2008: Phantom Reality
PoetryThis is YEAR ONE of my collection of poetry made from ranging moods, styles & motifs; each telling a perspective on life, as I, the author, see it. A piece written every week in the year of 2008; totaling at 60 devious deviations with 1 bonus poem m...
