I was often cocooned,
Drowned,
Hidden.
From the obscenities of the world
I was
"Protected".
Treading comfortably,
I swept through my earlier years
Swift as a fox dives for game.
But just as swiftly, my sore mind caved
In and out— my soul changed:
Sings songs of fears
And dances rhythms of grief.
Shall I head to Lethe?
Drink and drown on my own tears?
Swallow the pill bigger than the elephant in the room?
At last I'd feel
From depression's holy grail:
Drunk and dull to the pain,
Cocooned,
Drowned,
And hidden.
From Realities of Life,
I'm
"Protected".
YOU ARE READING
Artemis' Pensieve
No FicciónLyrics to the hymns of my messed up mind... Or atleast something that resembles it..
