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Literature Text
The wind is getting colder.
A convoluted mind
Filled with blissful
Reminders of
Being lost in a euphoric past
Now,
Plagued with the slick dark scars.
Once happy
A permanent aide memoire, currently
Hurt and told,
Being alone exists.
The leaves are falling.
Because the dancers in the street,
Can come inside
And woo
And challenge
And steal.
Instigated new life.
Tonight, the lost people who
Are the ejected, solitary lovers.
Who have not connected the red thread
With their soul mates
Cry out to feel.
Hot, burning milieu.
The skies stay brighter longer
And so do the bleeding hearts that
Are broken, forlorn and lost.
The cycle doesn’t continue forever.
A convoluted mind
Filled with blissful
Reminders of
Being lost in a euphoric past
Now,
Plagued with the slick dark scars.
Once happy
A permanent aide memoire, currently
Hurt and told,
Being alone exists.
The leaves are falling.
Because the dancers in the street,
Can come inside
And woo
And challenge
And steal.
Instigated new life.
Tonight, the lost people who
Are the ejected, solitary lovers.
Who have not connected the red thread
With their soul mates
Cry out to feel.
Hot, burning milieu.
The skies stay brighter longer
And so do the bleeding hearts that
Are broken, forlorn and lost.
The cycle doesn’t continue forever.
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I'm a mystery and so is my mind, this is how it works.
More than a year is written in there words. I've changed a lot during it.
© 2012 - 2024 Cloud-and-Petrichor
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