The avenue of memory sings before me
Behind my eyelids and my dreams
She beckons me back to her
But I reluctantly draw closer
To the Reaper instead
For my path lies ahead
And her street is a highway
A tightrope where I can no longer look back
He guides me to run faster
But I should only hear the tempo of my heartbeat.
YOU ARE READING
still sinking
PoetryIf the monsters of my mind manifested into poetry, there are no greater weapons than the words I write to defeat them. We've all been through dark times so let me take you through mine.
