Shadow of the past looks down on each of us,
In the moments when happiness knocks on the doors of our homes.
You can see it clearly,
It's the reflection in the broken mirror,
Staring at your aching unconsciousness,
Trying to sneak out through the cracks...
You may smell it,
Dead autumn leaves embellishing the ground,
Highly fragrant in melancholy
And the hopelessness of exaggerated dreams...
You can feel it,
It's the cold wind of peculiarity frosting your skin.
You can hear it,
steady rushing hum which makes your mind burn...
You can taste it,
It's the dance of the absinthe in your mouth,
Kindling your spirit, bereft of hope.
All you can do is to wait for it to stop,
It has to be exhausted, it's not everlasting...
Find a relief on the pillow,
Soaked in ponders, tears and shivers.
And when it stops,
That vicious muse,
Turn on the light in the soul,
Banish the past through the hall of hope,
Fix the cracks with molten gold,
Greet, and let the happiness enter the house of the heart...
YOU ARE READING
Breathe
Poetry❝ in her mind she held an incadencent thoughts for the world and an immense desire to breathe them out with each word ❞ Welcome to the place where my words and emotions meet. Random thoughts and feelings of mine, molded with patience into a tangibl...
