The ink on the pen is running out
The white canvass smeared with doubt
The writes gives in
To the shadows within him
Retreat
Fall back
When will he win?
YOU ARE READING
A Madman's Attempt at Writing
PoesiaNothing to see here. Just a guy writting down his misery. Please move along
MISERY SEEMS TO BE NORMAL NOW
The ink on the pen is running out
The white canvass smeared with doubt
The writes gives in
To the shadows within him
Retreat
Fall back
When will he win?
