Days are okay, let’s blatantly deprive them of that.
The brutal feeling of being detached emotionally and spiritually;
A colossal void surreptitiously emerges within me.
I call out for help,
But this voracious pit isn’t letting me embrace it.
Let’s thrash about;
But the attempts are proving to be oh so futile.
These morbid thoughts, these moribund limbs,
This taciturn mouth and this tumultuous mind;
No time for precarious pursuits,
Can I be extricated from this rambunctious, tenacious crumpet?
Say you feel it too, just appease me, please.
Fireworks are going off, it’s ballistic.
Still probing for the profound beauty of nothingness.
Except, this redundant slideshow of remorse flows unabated.
Yes I ran forward to escape;
But it grabbed me, dragged me, tied and gagged me.
The clouds have abandoned me; leaving the excruciatingly scorching gleams of this blithesome sunshine to smolder me.
There’s a crowd bellowing around me,
Then why are the whispers inside louder?
Deeper breaths, I think.
But living on, does it have the same vivacious eloquence the eternal lie down promises,
for these colours don’t seem worth the boundless agony.
So, closing these eyes, I drink myself to sleep,
After hurtling a bullet to my head, stating ‘rest in peace’.
***
YOU ARE READING
Final Throes Of The Unfurling
Poesia"I strived to rise but every rise has a fall, I quit, I quit and that's all." Just a bunch of emotions sucked by the pen and bled on the pages. Can be seen in the dried marks on the pillow, Dark hollows of rapidly blinking eyes, And the corners of...
