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It was home once,
Oh it was our home once,
The drawings on those walls,
The paint staining on the floor,
Oh, this was ours once before,
Now how did it go?
The burned hallway,
And the beautiful deafening silence,
Was little to no issue,
As opposed to those bloodstains.
That smell of the decay,
And those black imprints,
That's all I can say,
Left behind as it may.
It was once,
Yes it was our place once,
But all that's left now,
Are haunted memories,
And screams of the dead,
Still unheard and unsolved,
This is our place,
For just you and me.
With nothing left here,
Just our unreached screams echoing.
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Interesting fact:
I never really wrote this.
It was just.... there, in my brain. As a song.
It kept playing and playing and playing in the form of an old broken radio kinda tuning, till I finally decided to just write it down.
And after writing it?
It stopped. Just like that.
Never heard the song again. It stopped as suddenly as it had started.
YOU ARE READING
Pressed between the Pages
Puisi》Poem Compilation《 Words can never justify our feelings and yet we still try to write them down. We use words every day, try to express what we feel and why we do so, and yet, somehow, we always fall short. Try looking through the lines and maybe, y...
