Native trees crown the horizon,
Green turns brown, and the brown turns black
These mountains rise tall but somehow fall short.
Rock edges carve the sky,
The moon hollows my soul
While the wind breaks my caverns walls.
The sun sets behind painted mountains,
The cold overtakes the warmth
Yet my body stays in stone
The woods have secrets that break through the dark
Snapping, whistling and rushing water
Hides the demons from inside her head
Mother Nature does nothing but still
For the creatures are waiting for the prey to come out
Snapping twigs like snapping necks
Rushing water drowns their life
And fire in the distance embers their strife
And the darkness blankets the warning knife
So I stand still listening, breathing
Giving this one last try, begging
Hollowed out trees like the soul I live in
I don't know if I'm strong or numb
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts Of Me, Sorry.
PoetryJust everyday, unconventional, uplifting, relatable, sad writings. Take a journey through my head. **warning-may make you unconsciously slip into a corner alone, with sad music drowning you through your headphones**
