There's a moonless Sky above our world tonight
leaving us in pitch black madness,
with all but will to fight.
There's streams of gutted hearts filling up the river.
One mad stands,
his name is the Giver.
He walks the streets filled with hopeless casualties,
laying dead in the dark,
Piled family by family.
The Giver's heart is pure,
like a sunset between two lovers.
He looks down, he's found the cure.
A giver gives, and this one gave.
Gave his heart,
to the world he saved.
He threw his heart into the sky,
replacing the moon, shining bright.
But with no heart to live,
the Giver died.
YOU ARE READING
Numbing Waves
PoésieA compilation of short stories and poems about mental disorders, love, sexuality, and whatever my happens in my life worth writing about. These are the deepest regions of my conscious written down.
