freedom was never something
I deserved,
nor was it a right
in my native lands.
the fire that once burned through
smoky green eyes,
has been extinguished,
and the host, gutted.
see, I go through all the motions of life
and have seen things you cannot fathom,
and I never though for a moment
I could get this numb.
my happiness I kill,
you've done this to yourself,
and we've died already.
-
Author:
๐ฆเพเฝฒโ๐ช๐๐ต๐ฎ๐ฒ๐ฐ๐ฑ ๐ฆเพเฝฒ (
Offline) - Published: June 24th, 2025 07:42
- Category: Gothic
- Views: 8
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Licence
Offline)
Comments1
A poem of resignation and recognition. Well written
thanks!
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