Darkness, the wicked woman.
She fogs up the sky.
Cloudy, with a chance of isolation.
She's sinister.
She's beautiful.
With nothing but a somber song,
She'll drag you to the depths of annihilation.
Aggravated by merriment,
Plagued by bliss,
She will never be at peace.
There is no moon.
No light at the end of this tunnel.
Her aura eclipses the only hope.
She leaves nothing untouched by her despair.
Defenseless and exposed,
She consumes me with unwelcome temptation.
I despise her wrath,
And her will to devour my soul.
She is the overcast of desolation.
But I submit to her anyways.
She is me,
Yet she is not.
She is everything,
Yet she is nothing.
YOU ARE READING
Journey
PoetryThis collection of poetry is a look into my soul, feeling what I have felt through my eyes. Love, nature, emotions, depression, motherhood and more. This is how I have always expressed myself and how I feel. This is me, B. L. Maxwell, the raw truth...
