~•~
Haunting eyes everywhere,
But they just perspire to thin air,
As every time I touch those walls of withering white paint,
They chip off and fall upon the callus dirty carpet.
Silence being the only block—away from all crises.
Crises of memories,
That seeps through these rooms—rooms inside these walls of mine—
Deepening the creases that trace my mind,
Locking my way back up to myself,
Where my sanity lies,
Perhaps a labyrinth of my mind,
Straying myself away,
From the constant rhythm
That surpasses the void within,
A constant chime
Of tones unmatched
A monotonous melody I wish could break these apart,
The alternates that I'm living in,
Perhaps just pieces of my existence are all that ties,
These guilt that carves its way inside,
Crawls upon my back,
To make me cry
For myself,
For the actions that bestowed.
But then I realized
The sakes of the emotions,
That came assaulting by
Were just imposed,
And not of mine,
For the bloom's over long,
It's now time to say goodbye.
~•~
YOU ARE READING
Serenade✔
Poetry"To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all. " ~Oscar Wilde __________________________________ ✔You stay under the carpet of my room, Dusting the corners of my soul✔ __________________________________...
