The Quiet
Ours was silence
In deep years
Apart distances
Hearts, far away
I'm only a paltry light
In your cerculean landscape
Almost faint, irrelevant
Almost nothing
Our heartbeats went loud
But sounded different rhymes
Surpassed the test of time
It's not us, this time
Those three words
Were always empty
I'm sorry
For doubting your sincerity
You've never let me enter your mind
So as your heart
Always hid me in your shadows
A dark part of yours,
T'was me
Ours was music
But for years,
I've never sang
The rose you gave,
With all the words you spoke
And all our smiles
Has faded terribly
You said,
"You're my everything"
And yet,
You tell me nothing
Don't tell me I made your day,
We both know I didn't
And it quite hurts
That you glance at her
The same way you glanced at me
You gave me up once
Doesn't mean you couldn't do it again
Started out wrong
We are ending it right
Should've dropped your goodnights
I will always understand,
They meant goodbyes.
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The Passionate Corpse
PoetryCorpses are gross, dirty and foul-smelling. At times, they're scary to look at. But curiousity enthralls upon something unpleasant. Amidst the ugliness, it satisfies the dark part of our soul-not meant to be human. Something about it is unnatural...
