if this is the last time.

5 | empty pages

Change is the most permanent thing
Once, there is love, now there is nothing
At first, there are stares held long and willing
But now there are spaces between everything
In the beginning, there is peace
Now, all is left with scars and displease
As soon as everything left its place
From happiness to strife then towards the end of days
I held on yo feelings and strange
But the only thing the world loves is change
As I stare back into the mirror of regret
My heart is shallow, my soul there is death

This is all but shallow thoughts and useless minds
Prose ends and midnight lies
The lyrical worth of my song is fading
Value after value, my soul is fleeting
All but exaggeration and meaningless scheme
To show that love's happiness is all a dream
Maybe the world is fine without you
And it will continue with or without your view
The mind is fine but the heart is in pain
Could you see that love is an endless game?
And that is why there are changes
Because that's what we use to fill up empty pages

Moving forward like slugs on sea
But this is a must, for we have to be free
Bonded forever is like deep agony
But letting go of emotions just have to be
Set the pain free by letting your pen down
To write your feelings and place them in a noun
Give your blame to the one who knew more
Don't settle on less because you will soar
Cast your soul towards the cliff
Let it sink far away and far too deep
Find the key to unlock its cages
Let your emotions pour and write on empty pages

But as I sat, there is that silence
That fills up the space, makes up the sentence
My pen loses ink but none is written
My soul loses color yet none is forgiven
The heart of the poor is nothing but sorrow
Finding light is but a dream in a burrow
Put my thoughts within a pile of papers
But nothing comes to mind, like blank answers
I see that no one can pour it out directly
So I took my pen once and began it dearly
But what if my heart is as stiff as ever?
What would happen if the answer is never?
And as my heart went up in ranges
I realized I was there, staring at empty pages

I have no idea I have written this poem. Really.

This is the first time I read that poem in such a very long time. I even forgot it existed. And yes, I don't know what it's about.

So, what about you? What do you think of this poem? Comment below. :)