Nightfall Stardust

A Boy With Roses

We are shadows, memories piercing candid skin                                                    

In the cool shade of youth remembering                                                                        

Children in my soul playing foolish games                                                            

Reading letters in candlelight by a fiery place                                                            

Casting spells in cloudy mirrors                                                                                            

Looking through windows into fraudulent reality                                                                

I hear the rain, the night's music flowing                                                                      

Divinity in the mind's prison burgeoning in hollow pits                                                        

My unshaven face, puppy eyes, red blemishes                                                          

Days without showering in this depressive gloom                                                            

Insane statues with winter in our bodies, content hands                                                    

When we're stimulated and not thinking about the future                                          

Visions like Chromecast unearthed in our ruins

 

I submit to desire, everyone does                                                                              

Like moths to light, controlled by impulse                                                                                                                          

Peering through dark windows, into dark blue stones                                                          

Foiled by accidental circumstance                                                                            

Those days of blue skies are long gone                                                                  

Fading warm hands speak like pain, plagued hearts                                                

Begging for relief, lonely men, lonely streets                                                    

Whispering chimes flicker like echoes                                                                          

It makes me remember music class and my old Yamaha keyboard                          

The graffitied sticky notes and neon pens                                          

How life used to be fun but now it's a cycle of endless torture                                  

Endless moons, endless rivers                                                                                          

Right now I'm living for my art, my little glass house                                                      

My hedonism, my addictions, my biome                                                          

Everything else is boring.

  • Author: Jordan Cash (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: December 15th, 2021 18:28
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 52
  • Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
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Comments +

Comments2

  • Caring dove

    Sometimes life feels like more pain than joy … doesn’t it , it really shouldn’t be that way , makes no sense to me

    I like your choice of words in this 🙂

  • L. B. Mek

    'Reading letters in candlelight
    by a fiery place
    Casting spells in cloudy mirrors
    Looking through windows
    into fraudulent realty
    I hear the rain,
    the night's music flowing

    Divinity in the mind's prison burgeoning in hollow pits
    My unshaven face, puppy eyes, red blemishes
    Days without showering in this depressive gloom

    Insane statues
    with winter in our bodies, content hands
    When we're stimulated
    and not thinking about the future
    Visions like Chromecast unearthed in our ruins
    I submit to desire, everyone does
    Like moths to light, controlled by impulse'



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