I walked slowly into the middle of the room
It was not lived in anymore
Have I found the light?
Yet still standing in the gloom
I could hear the sea clearly
I should've never thought of it this early
The room that was never used now,
It was cold and smelt of the flowers
Staring at one another,
I couldn't take my eyes away from hers
I tried to smile, but I felt sick and ill
Hearing the harsh sound of the sea and still
The wind was blowing
And I had better be going
Do you think the dead watch the living?
Will you be alive with no pain or feeling?
My heart was beating in a strange exited way
The house seemed quiet
Everything was dark and so was my way
I must see that everything was alright
Maybe here's not dark
Maybe it's all bright
I felt different from yesterday
What's wrong with my soul?
Was my face always pale?
My old friend of mine
People will hurt you
You will be locked up
But you won't lock me up,
Will you?
YOU ARE READING
Withering Dreams
Poetry"But who's the tangled one in the bubble? " -Not just me, we're all confined by the walls we build ourselves. And those who suddenly find their elves in another world... maybe an unknown world Everybody who they feel something vague And every elf...
