I don’t thirst for the sun
when it’s gone and I rest,
where the dusk made a nest
and my mind fell behind.
When the moon rules the light,
the soft blue warps my sight,
dovish hue burns my skin,
lays a veil as a guise.
A smooth cutting knife
makes a victim of my ties.
Tender darkness hides my sins,
warms the cold I keep inside
Don’t the vultures sleep at night?
Prowl in circles, aim my chest,
the kind of dead flesh they digest.
Is it wrong that I’m not scared?
In the dark I close both eyes,
let them guide me while I’m blind.
I don’t wish to follow dreams
since the sun has left the sky.
Oct 16, 2025
Oct 16, 2025 at 9:21 AM UTC
I don’t thirst for the sun when it’s gone
When the moon’s hue is shining above
The blue light is blinding my eyes
It’s gentle when burning my skin
It’s warm for the coldness inside
The darkness fits me like a glove
It smoothly cuts all of my ties
It’s tenderly hiding my sins
I blindly made it my own guide
It’s buffering all of my screams
I cannot recall brighter times
As far as I see in my dreams
The sun has been out of the skies
Jun 28, 2025
Jun 28, 2025 at 12:46 PM UTC
I look within myself to find myself within my path
The answers are denials for the questions that I ask
The truth was never hiding, it was resting in it’s nest
But you can only find it by abandonment of the task
Jun 25, 2025
Jun 25, 2025 at 9:49 PM UTC