AZURE.
The hue these days aren't the bright blue that I once craved.
No, they are a dirty mud colour.
Filled with my heart break.
Sitting and watching the distant sky,
I cannot help but weep
For the endless nights and
The endless lost sleep.
The hues these days aren't the bright blue I once craved
The azure I loved now seems fake.
YOU ARE READING
ABASE
PoetryHe needn't a rope to subdue me but his eyes. Abase: Verb. To behave in a way that shows you accept that someone has complete powered over you. He was the controller and I the puppet.
