Your words
infect me, cutting their way
into my very cells, my DNA
and, like a time bomb
detonate within
destroying love and confidence and hope
until all that remains
is a man that resembles a spirit,
pale, hollow, with shape but no substance.
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Author:
Fränz Müller (
Offline) - Published: July 23rd, 2026 16:37
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments2
A poetic write of alienation from self itself. Well done
Fränz, this hit me hard…raw, intimate, and absolutely devastating. The pain feels immediate and merciless throughout. One hell of a powerful poem, my friend! 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
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