Wednesday, September 3, 2014

At Night

Broken silence fills the void
Recites the words from a grimoire
A damning poem, stricken down with grief
Fallen short, fallen short, yet again

A smolder of hope gets beaten
Down with rain

Palms still clenched, though vaguely
Rest resigned on wet ground

Should've seen it coming from afar
Haven't learnt from past mistakes

It's all in the head
Fucking empty space
Winds inside whistle still, every night

All dark
All dark
My eyes can't see
A thing
A thing
My ears can't hear
A sound
A sound
It's all just gone away
For good
For good
Or till the next time, the next day

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