Here I lay
And, unfortunately, here I'll stay
Here I'll last
Forever living in my past.
My wings are broken
My heart, shattered
My voice is unheard
My mind, troubled.
I can blame a thousand souls
For the torture I'm in.
This pain has taken it's toll
And I'm officially dead.
My heart stopped beating
Over a millennia ago
Yet it still is fleeting
But only to know.
Why have I given up
Why have I denied
The pain you caused me
That troublesome night.
But here now I fall
And before I hit the ground
I try to rise like a king
Gently, on my broken wings.
AGD

YOU ARE READING
Painting With Words
PoetryThese are subtle glimpses I get from the lives of the people around me, written as poems. Some refer to me; most don't. Enjoy.