The sun streaks in
Pouring from the outside
But not much is there to do
How lethargy has taken hold of my limbs
My arms, my legs unable to move
My mind lost within the whirlwind
Of the household.
My parents tend to their garden
hoping for a bloom
Tending to the flowers
Morning till noon
Whilst I, here in bed with my head
To the ceiling
Thinking how it would end
Here with a pen
To pen a poem or two
Not much to say
Not much to think about
Not much to go with,
Drained by the days
Of absolute nothingness
Drained by the days
Of mind numbing
Compensation
For the boundaries crossed
The silence
The chaos
The sheerness of the day
Prickles my labyrinthine mind
More lost than ever
More gone
In
Deep
No map
No lamp
YOU ARE READING
Labyrinth
PoetryPoems I made during quarantine. A poem compilation about eating, sleeping and other things. I don't know what I have created. Read at your own risk.
