I have
the day from night.
But suddenly....
it is all pretense
this light is spent,
to be like the rest.
Blind and looking for each other in each other,
to be the rest; down to the perfected best,
let us do this again.
A welcome guise
for a damnation guide.
I won't find the silver lining.
You are free to be human
as much as you can be anything else.
This is your eternal deal,
I can steal it all back.
The good and the bad.
Down to my neck in ugliness.
A God in chains waiting for death
being pulled by your demons.
A moment of fear can become a lifetime of -not here-.
your angels are watching
...let us do this again.
A better side.
A welcome guise
for the darkness.
A new side.
You are finally
the light of suffering.
I have
the scars of my mind.
I can never fight this.
And the dead make it back
into my life.
I won't even shed a tear.
Yet somehow we all are the same
fighting a war we can never win.
What is written is done on one another.
- Author: ReflectionShadow (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: January 26th, 2022 16:27
- Comment from author about the poem: What ghost is here, speaking through us.
- Category: Fantasy
- Views: 9
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
Comments1
some deep, deep musings
you've shared here
and some penetratingly acute insights,
such a thought provoking write
thank you for choosing to share
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