The One Who Left

Viverra faucibus sem

Rain makes the flower grow,
Storm kills the flower that grows.
Was it him or I that wouldn’t let me grow,
Is it the egg or the chicken that first knows,
Was it pride or the shame that brought me low.
The road I paved was sorely wrong,
My heart is in heat with a song
that pleads a house to belong.
This “being” has been hallow for far too long.
The battle that rages in me, between who I was and who I am and who I will be,
takes no cognizance of how or what or why I no more can see.
The fears in my head that keep me dead,
Are often by the monsters are fed
Fear, confusion, and sorrow only led to curl alone beneath a broken bed.
Darkness stole me from the face of the sun,
The sun turned around and found another one.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You May Also Like