My mind is blank
At this point in time.
Soon, it will be gone,
Like the Prince of the Air.
Banished to a cold and unknown region
Attempting escape, but the legion
Of guards holds me captive,
Claiming to be festive
In a strange, eerie place.
Green grass does not grow here;
The barren soil is not fertile enough.
The only life that thrives here
Are evergreens so tough.
The ocean is frozen over.
So is the river.
So are the few deer that still reside here.
So is my heart; so is my mind.
And now, I blink, for the trance has not left me.
I simply give in to the nothingness.
All thoughts clear except for a voice.
"Welcome home."
And, in the end, as always,
My brain empties its bank.
My eyes will see no more days.
My mind goes blank.
YOU ARE READING
Verbosity
PoetryI think too much. Maybe that's what leads me to write so much and with such a diction. Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe it's a bad thing. Maybe we will never know if it's even of any consequence. Oh, well. I suppose I'll see you inside.
