the streets are lit with the broken lights,
shards of broken windows decorate the ground.
a few ghost roam the land in search,
of where there happiness went and how could it be found.
amazingly enough my heart still beats,
as i look for the disaster that plagued this place,
that turned the gardens into mud piles,
and that began the horrible and swift chase.
the moon has fallen and the sun has burned out,
only thing than can light this up is artificial light.
i'm scared of the silence and I'm scared of peace,
but destroying and breaking is how we begin to fight.
YOU ARE READING
Whispers
PoetryI scream but all you hear is whispers -- ι wrιтe тнe world ғroм мy eyeѕ. alwayѕ wrιттen, never ѕpoĸen. --- Winner of 'The Lavender Award' Best Cover! 1st Place in "The Bubble Tea Awards" in Poetry 1st Place in 'The Golden Awards' in Poetry 2nd Place...
