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Isaac 7d
Only when the sun puts its head to rest,
do I truly wake. As the last gaze of eyes
that aren't mine shift their focus, my lungs
inflate with relief.

I am released from the tethers of perception,
and I am allowed to be alone with myself. Only
the night knows who I am, and only then
am I who I am.

To be free is to not be seen,
to own is to not be known,
to be is to simply, not be.

As the sun aches awake,
I retreat into the prison of my mind
and I will be who I need to be.
Dec 12 · 183
My Mother's Chauffeur
Isaac Dec 12
I’ll wait in the car
And fog up the windows
With shaky breath, I steady myself
I drag ******* across and through
Some divine slit I have created, I will admire
You.

I will be your yesman,
And I will never have a question.

I will drive us to anywhere you want to go
Even as the brakes groan and tires bleed
I will remember the rhythm of each road
And I will play it for you when you want to
Relive a scene that I have only seen from
The windscreen.

Even as I break and groan and tire and bleed
I will wait in the car and watch you live.
And I will be happy, and I will find reason
Even if my nails are biting into the handbrake
And my foot has long frozen to the pedal,
I must be happy, and there is always a reason.

When the day where you can no longer dance
Finally graces with me with its dawn
I shall then pick myself up from the driver's seat
And walk into the sunset like in the movies
And for them that is the end
But for me that shall be the beginning.
Nov 30 · 45
yet again
Isaac Nov 30
the trees cast their gaze away
from the rot of a ******,
the inexplicable slaughter of a sapling,
its singular leaf blackened and
fetally curled.

they cry, "we could not move,
we could do nothing," and nothing
they did worked because they did
nothing.

innocence now only remembered
in the pungent stench of death,
an infant body but charcoal in the ground.

they wail, "for there was no rain,
for there was no sun, we have yet again been forsaken!", trembling in harsh winds
that carry the ashes of their children.

they strip themselves, for it seemed wiser
to clothe the dead than the living, and so
a singular broken stem lay beneath a swathe of fading foliage, brown and red
enveloping an all too conspicuous black.

even as the fire ravages their naked bark,
even if the forest goes up in flames,
even though they have been forsaken,
they will at least die in the embrace
of a world that once loved them.
Nov 26 · 143
And on the eighth day,
Isaac Nov 26
He looks upon his beloved creation
invariable, inevitable self-destruction
a cycle of vainness and nihility.

He makes no mistakes,
no shots missed when
none are taken.

and on the eighth day,
He sighs...

Breathing life into a world
that cedes purely to death.
Nov 25 · 526
bouquet, wilting
Isaac Nov 25
when eventually I come to pass
I pray that they rip me from limb to limb
such as a flower sheds its petals
and that I may be more beautiful in death
than I ever was in life

for we only see the vibrant rose
in the fading colours of having been plucked
Isaac Aug 9
oh, how you hate it when i cry

when you cast your heavy provoking gaze
upon my dastardly face, so you say
my skin turns to wood and eyes to glaze
tears to pearls and lies to praise

grab me by my strings, push and shove
drag me beneath your heels in the name of love
break my teeth and bruise my mouth
just another day, just another month

I'll carve my voice box out into velvet shapes
a singular imperfection of the curtain drapes
and you are a monster, and the show never ends
curtain call, curtain fall, just your hard-hitting hands

my throat, hollowed out, echoes louder
than any line you've ever written for me
when my joints finally fail and I no longer sing
perhaps you will then cry for me
in loss, in vain, or in anger,
in fury that you've lost your favourite puppet

but till then I'll cry,
I'll cry 'cause I know how you hate it
Jul 3 · 58
The Mute Nightingale
Isaac Jul 3
it is free within the confines of my mind
i have long forgotten its song, yet somehow
I can still drum the rhythm as it
echoes against the cell bars of my skull

its throat groans - yet still no sound escapes
neither joy nor pain is exempted from
the blockage of stale unmoving air
and lukewarm blood

songs rot in its belly, dead music adorned
rot bellows its song, rough and uncouth
and most of all,

it climbs up the nightingale's mouth,
an air of forced silence
the death of inspiration
Jan 30 · 63
Settling Down
Isaac Jan 30
i wake up with Stagnancy in my bed
another morning, yet the same day
the rays of sun tear into the room,
ripping open pools of white on his face

he pays it no mind, his hands
clutch my Adam's apple like plucking
fruit in an evergreen garden,
where nothing grows so nothing dies

Constancy begs me to stay, pleads me
to never leave, shuts the blinds
so the hordes of bright people and
brighter voices stay outside our
unchanging paradise

they call him bullish names, they
say he's complacency, laziness
say he's "wasting my potential"

but I've found greater peace in him
than I ever have in the multitudes
of mornings and infinite days
that I never want to experience

so I'll wake up with Immutability
and go to bed with Invariableness
I'll give myself to him, let him take
everything, let him be everything

another morning, yet the same day.
I wake up alone again.
Isaac Jan 29
bury me where the sun can't see
where its rays have never gazed
hide me away in the unknown
never thought of, never thought about

bury me where no breath has been taken
in soil where no root has defamed
a garden where nothing grows
is a garden where nothing dies

bury me like an unwanted memory
like a recurring nightmare, an endless dream
if extinction is forgetfulness' child
then remembrance is my nemesis
bury me where they won't know I'm gone
and where they won't come looking

bury me not like I've lived
bury me not like I've died

bury me like I never lived
and like I never died
Jan 28 · 95
Timeless Escapism
Isaac Jan 28
The day is broken
And the night knows of naught
But to follow suit swiftly

And soon, in a shattered dream
I lay beside the fragments of sun and moon
My feet do not tremble on their corners
My blood runs through the lines of time

When you are one with nothing
Are you trapped in extinction?
Or are you finally free
In the sunless mornings
And moonless nights?
Jan 26 · 69
homeless
Isaac Jan 26
under the ghastly gazes of streetlamps
i wonder why
i feel more at home.

in the dark of the night
in its cold embrace
i feel loved. somehow,
i belong here.

but through the door,
mama and papa's love,
or the magic they so speak of
seems to have no effect

i'd rather stand in the ghastly gaze
of the moonlight
than beneath their eyes.

the fireplace has burned for as long as i can remember
yet never once has it invited me in.
i know the dark will never hurt me
even if it will never love me.

but suddenly
the streelights are pupils
and the dark has cold hands
and I'm knocking on a door
that won't ever open.
when everywhere but home starts to feel more like home than home itself
Aug 2023 · 306
art
Isaac Aug 2023
art
The painter never
runs out of ink. He paints till
he knows he must bleed.
Aug 2023 · 103
handmade
Isaac Aug 2023
The grooves of the door handle
clasp too perfectly about your
fingerprints. Push, don’t pull

and enter into my splendor.
The expanse of the corridor
is slightly familiar to you. The
gait, the wait, the bate
of your breath and the silence
that follows and the violence
that crashes through the expanse
of my corridor are
slightly familiar to me.

The master bedroom is
straight down the street and
a left turn after two blocks,
past the cafe you irregularly
patronised for all those years
where I could get but a glimpse
of the sunrise through the window.
It has a his and his, a walk-in
wardrobe and easily removable
wallpaper. If you would like to tear
it down because the deja vu
is too strong then I have about three
hundred other instances of solo
interactions between you and me, and a
colour palette no other interior
redesigner could ever possibly imag-

You peek past the slightly neglected
washroom, clinical scents wafting out
like blood washing off wounds that are
never meant to stop bleeding but
rather are orifices we pretend to
not understand. The leaky faucet hums
a tune you played on the harmonica
three years ago. You recognise off-white
tiles from the freckles of your face. I am
in the medicine cabinet, just waiting
for you to reach in and patch me up
along with the ever-bleeding orifices but even now
as I ****** the faucet with a hundred
unfinished melodies the bathroom is still
flooding.

The living room is a graveyard. But you
can’t smell the bodies because I set a
reminder for myself to put on deodorant
every alternate week when I stumbled
past you to get to the same side of the street as you
but each time a different car
would kiss my knees and colour my bruises in and
each time you would
already be
gone.

This next room is under construction.

This next room is under construction.

This next room is utter destruction.

-

I reach into the medicine cabinet and grab at nothing
and suddenly the wallpaper is just the pattern
of my shirt sleeve because I have long forgotten
the name of the cafe I saw you in once.

I watch the expansive corridor become
fragments of impossible sidewalks and
mono-coloured zebra crossings. I can
no longer see the sunrise through
the window. I have never seen the sunrise.

Do you know my name?

-

The grooves of the door handle
clasp too awkwardly about your
fingerprints. Don’t pull, don’t push.

Enter into my splendor.
a deranged rant abou wanting what i cant have
Apr 2023 · 326
Untitled
Isaac Apr 2023
Your love is a violence I've learnt to love.

Too harsh for a melody,
to feeble to be worth a shout,
so the words lay upon their grave
of poetry.
Mar 2023 · 178
seabreeze and exhaust
Isaac Mar 2023
as the tide comes in and washes out,
my love follows suit, on this roundabout
as the moon awakes, and waxes and wanes,
my love soon tailgates, cuts into your lane
as the sun ascends, and rises and sets
my love imitates, amber signs for regret

as the tide continues to come and go,
my love follows every high and low
my love is tired, my love is slow
my love is putting me on death row

but for as long as the dawns still crack
my love for you never dares to lack

my love knows your love, after all,
and my love is in the backseat
in case your car stalls.
Jan 2023 · 218
untitled
Isaac Jan 2023
melodies lie bare
for I am far too ashamed
to give them a name.
Oct 2022 · 289
decomposition
Isaac Oct 2022
who knew love could expire?
i certainly didn't.

but when you leave anything out there
in the open, in the cold,
left to exist on it's own -
it will surely die.
Oct 2022 · 120
midnight feast
Isaac Oct 2022
again, i am in a lull.
sleepless nights
but by my own hand,
i torture myself when there
is nothing to torture me

when you grow so parallel,
so close to pain,
it never sickens you how
you enjoy it.
Aug 2022 · 222
indescribable
Isaac Aug 2022
i can barely put this feeling
into words.

it is awkward, it is uncannily
difficult to deal with, and i am desperate
to let it out but there is nothing
i can do.

there is a war in my mind,
and both sides
are losing.

it is not silent, it is
a low buzz, a muted
whisper, not really there
but still so real.

it makes its way into every
thought, every action, an invader
and intruder, an insatiable,
feral desire that you never
really know

i am trying to go both
ways at once, leave and enter,
exist yet be nothing at all

right and wrong are
never too far apart, and
i am getting tired of choosing.
the desperation for human connection is ironically so hampered by not being able to trust yourself and trust anyone else - it almost hurts.

how can they tell me to believe when I've done that all my life and every single time it's ended up the same way?

I will not willingly place myself in a position of disappointment. And yet...
Aug 2022 · 163
lost and found
Isaac Aug 2022
like a child who has grown
too old for colouring, i am
a half empty box of crayons
lost in the suffocating folds
of the sofa

i am a carton of stuffed toys
who've had their life
hugged out of them, i am
the dog ears on a yellow
paperback

and i am the friend you forgot
about when the popular kids
came your way and made me
watch you leave

i am a passing storm, i am
a circumstance that people
get all too familiar with
and eventually forget
is there

and i am not ashamed
to be these things. i am
a collection of long lost
memories, all of which
simply just happen to end the same way.

i am not beyond repair
but the knife edges are dull
and the needles hurt more than
they used to

not abused, just used.
Jun 2022 · 241
unsafe
Isaac Jun 2022
it lingers on my tongue
like sour candy

the desire to collapse into
arms that aren't mine
is far too invasive for my
liking.

it lingers on my tongue
like lies.

i am forever unsure of the
truth, of myself, and my
resignation is propping itself
up against the wall in the corner
of my room. i am tired.

it lingers on my tongue
like false hope.

disappointment is my best friend;
and i am eternally wed to her.
Jun 2022 · 96
meltdown
Isaac Jun 2022
is this what
a volcano feels like?
when the blood is leaking
from the top, a visceral tapestry
of stone that has long given in to the heat

when the ash dots the ground
like freckles on burnt skin, like how we
never realise each twinkling star in the night sky
is also dying

when the smoke clouds
your vision, but you could never
really see in the first place, and you could
never smell anything but the pungent scent of
regret

is this what a volcano feels like?
holding it all in because
you don't want to hurt everyone

yet letting it all out
because you simply
couldn't
help it.
Jun 2022 · 117
candystore: closing sale
Isaac Jun 2022
i am lost, once again
in the candy floss
fantasy of his candied
nails, leaving caramel
trails as they flourish and
riposte upon the small
of my back

like a child, i want the
sickly sweet grape-flavoured
chapstick of his, glued to
the hairs of my peach-tinted
cheeks, lining the licorice
alleys of my palms

i want to remember and relish
in his flavour (that i have never
and probably will never ever
taste) - i want to store them
in display bottles in the back,
sugar crystals for my eyes
only

i want to be at the front of store
and i want to give him a
bouquet of my candy floss dreams
and wave extra long as the smell
of grape-flavoured chapstick
and caramel fades

he will never know me
as well as i do him

and he will never know me.
an unapologetic thirst poem
Isaac Jun 2022
love is                         a gift.
love exists not to      replenish those
who give themselves far too little of it.
love exists because some people
simply have too much,
and would like
to share it
with
you
Jun 2022 · 223
neverland
Isaac Jun 2022
the ever-expanding walls
run from me, as I chase down
impossibilities and pipe
dreams, my feet never touching
the ground, not even
once. upon a time

there lived a boy in his
head, and in his head he stayed,
blind to reality but inclined to
imagine. he knew not once
of worldly torment, yet was
all too familiar with that which
the ever-expanding walls ran
from-

the truth.
to be trapped in my mind
where all is free

is better than to be free
in the world, where all
is trapped
May 2022 · 109
homeless
Isaac May 2022
loneliness isn't a desolate plain

loneliness is searching for the path back home
but realising home
is a desolate plain
Apr 2022 · 192
unspeakable
Isaac Apr 2022
the rhythmic, unfeeling bars and tones
make me feel more than
dry words from
dry lips
Apr 2022 · 215
to gently berate
Isaac Apr 2022
emotions abate
i am no longer irate
in pupils agate
Apr 2022 · 99
to say the least
Isaac Apr 2022
words have been spilling out
uncontrollably, in a less than
ideal fashion, spilling out
from the hole i carved out
myself, not anyone, but myself

words have been refusing
to form reality from thought,
they are disobedient and
unruly, and they are like children
running across a highway
groaning at peak hour

words have been clinging to
my lips, to the tender thorns
that grace my throat, to the
caverns of my mouth, and they
are suffocating me

words? there are none, not enough
to fill this hole that he carved out
himself, not anyone, but
himself
Apr 2022 · 138
palette
Isaac Apr 2022
every second spent
with him is another colour
in my menagerie

im painting the walls
magenta, hazel, aquamarine
they blend and swirl, a new form
of life, plastered onto a beating
wall

every second spent
with him is another colour
i can picture

im reeling from all the
moss green, the incandescent
violet, the royal purple
im reeling, but i like
the feeling of being spun around
in circles?

every second spent
with him is a shade lighter
than before

suddenly my world is saturated,
and everything is too warm,
and everything is too cool,
and suddenly the scarlets are violent
and the baby blues are depressed
and the olive greens are poisonous

every second spent
with him is a colour
lost in my world

i have decided that
black and white is the
only safe place to be, to
see, and yet the grey becomes
too much, the grey in his
hair, his eyes, his skin

every second spent
with him is bleaching
my colour menagerie

but i am the one with
detergent cradled abreast,
and i am the one making
all these colours bleed,
and i am the one running
into a world of no colour,
because i have given all
i know about colours
to him, and

he has
given
none
back
Mar 2022 · 101
glass pain
Isaac Mar 2022
i sit amongst the wreckage and her sisters
destruction watches as i run my fingers
along an old scar, opening a fresh wound

i ***** every finger on every edge i can find,
trying to find some semblance, some feeling
of what used to be

the dust only reminds me of
how long its been, yet no dust
has settled yet on my
mind

within my fingers, i clutch
a fragment, glossy and new,
another one of the hundreds
i've created, one that i am
finally bound to love

right?
Sep 2021 · 107
unseen
Isaac Sep 2021
i wonder what it would be like
to be a shadow, void of light,
of weight, of stress

hidden from the sun, hidden
from everyone, asleep behind
thick curtains and black drapes

and at night, i'll come out to play
i'll leave my mark in the twisted shapes,
in the uncertain and in the unknown,
only to fade with the day

i will go back into the dusty corners,
alone but not lonely, freed by the realisation
that i am a shadow without trying, a ghost
tethered to plastic store-bought bones, and
i will collapse with all the finality of a thousand
spider webs and a regretful smile
Aug 2021 · 116
The Prisoner's Serenade
Isaac Aug 2021
i am free to wander as i please,
feel the whispering forest breeze
my shadow splayed like an ugly crease
my face hidden beneath the trees

i am free to wander as i desire,
daydreams of a foreign liar
once bound to the burning pyre
i'll never start my own fires

i am free to wander as i like,
ball and chain adorned with spikes
and crown of iron, my royal hike
to distant lands, no two alike

i am free to wander as i choose,
ghostly kisses on a blackened bruise
uncharted lands mock my rues
i'll never leave my home, my ruse

I am free to wonder, never to wander
trapped within the glory and splendor
of my own mind, the foreign liar
ties his noose and sets it afire
Aug 2021 · 162
my fingertips hurt
Isaac Aug 2021
not a stirring storm, rather
a lake in crisis, thunderstorm
rhythm in motion, my body
is used to the churning

acidic vandalism of the inner
walls, scars like stars in the
midnight sky, constellations
of hurt, trapped within the
observatory I am

soon enough, the familiar
pain eases itself through
the rusted pipes, leaking,
faulty, unfeeling cold
like stalagmite formations

it returns home, unfortunately,
again, and I am no stranger to
the wintry tendrils that have
replaced my blood, that give me
life that isn't worth living

my digits twitch and spasm as
the metallic river snakes to
my extremes, shores of icicles
erupting to the surface

if am numb to the numbing anger
then why do my fingertips hurt?
Jul 2021 · 207
warsong
Isaac Jul 2021
march on brave warriors
feet drumming the earth
draw rhythm out of pain
the metronome of life
the right of way is
your right today

march on brave soldiers
veterans who have seen
everything but nothing
more and nothing yet
cry for the lost
weep for the found

march on brave children
tiny palms hold Atlas' weights
unbeknownst to them
they carve the cliffs and valleys
that they will live and die in

march on brave souls
who live on in us
in the tolling feet of warriors
in the tearful eyes of soldiers
and the tested palms of children

march on march on march on march on

march on bravely
march on knowing full well that we will
march on with you as you
march on.
Jul 2021 · 576
jamais vu
Isaac Jul 2021
there's an odd transience in the air,
borne of frosted breath and
hushed pain,
all too familiar yet still so strange

I breathe in the change,
as it oils the cogs of the old machine,
sweeping the dust out of metal arteries
amid plastic veins

a heavy step, deepest imprint
in the snow, joints creak in a melody
that only he understands,
a faint whistle, a mimic of harmony

the air is still, not stale
silence says, not feels

there's an odd transience in the air,
and he likes it.
I like it.
Jul 2021 · 114
unreachable
Isaac Jul 2021
you are the only white rose
in a sea of red

you are solace in turmoil, where my eyes
lay to rest and my heart beats quick

you are ruler of the bush, star of the
Christmas tree, moon of my sky

you draw my gaze, fuel my lust,
i look to the skies not for the stars but
to stare directly into the sun

but such as the sun does blind me,
so do you ***** me with your thorns,
pale face of rejection, moonshine of
pity, but not love

like the clouds covet the sun,
a hand caresses the spines,
and i lie on a bed of thorns,
for the hand is not mine.
Jul 2021 · 104
the baker
Isaac Jul 2021
i'd die for your frosted sugar lips,
**** gemstones rolling down my throat,
cutting my flesh into diamonds

seal your cheques in typewriter's speak,
i'd die for the rosy thumbprint over
my eyes, blind me from blood stains and
ink rain

bakery's closed, but you're still open, and
so am i, as we slow dance in the fading lights
of slow burning ovens, creeping warmth like
limbs around mine

i'd die from the bittersweet taste,
insidiously beautiful, black crumbs
in open wounds, ashen eyes hiding regret

as he utters slumber's name, i awaken
from beneath the counter,
dying to live
living to die
Jul 2021 · 98
shells
Isaac Jul 2021
we clatter the seabed, grey-blue
curves dusted by sand, collectibles
forever left behind

we funnel beneath the *****,
beige shores, hidden from the sky,
out of sight, out of mind

we grind stones and pebbles,
fine as the freckles on your face,
against our chapped lips

we nurse the cracking carcasses,
saltwater biting at our raw cheeks,
puppets, helpless in the tide

we are hollow, devoid of shine,
and we feel our beating pearls
gasping for air in your poisonous,
silken pockets
every stroke of paint and blood, left by you
Jul 2021 · 158
bluest moon
Isaac Jul 2021
i draw hearts with the stardust,
unintentional beauty, accidental art,
left in your wake

i catch glimpses of you,
burning the night sky up with your flare,
a scar of light inked along
the cheekbones of a dusty mirror

you are a shooting star,
that i can only wish upon
do wishes come true?
Jul 2021 · 101
deconstruction
Isaac Jul 2021
a mountain of bricks, glued by memory,
hand-built by you, hastily put together,
mistakenly given life, a glossy trophy,
i am a mountain of bricks you walk over

a splash of dye, a spill of ink,
i lie red, white, black and blue,
you cleave crumbling edges, watch me sink,
profanities in cursive, defamed by you

i bleed over the cracks, paint over the lines
as you take me back, piece by piece, brick by brick,
scatter me to the earth, burn down the signs,
i am a mountain of bricks, sweetly sick
Mar 2021 · 102
midnight thoughts
Isaac Mar 2021
like tarnished silver and forgotten gold,
my midnight thoughts haunt me,
an echo of beauty only to
be forgotten the
next morn'
Mar 2021 · 294
chorus
Isaac Mar 2021
there's a catch in my throat
a lump, a bump, a sudden
crosswords of air and thought
and the notes are suspended
midair, empty, a vibration
with direction but no motivation

there's a catch in my throat,
a hurdle in the road, a pothole
of accidents and apologies
and the music abruptly pauses
a welcoming dissonance,
warm but jarring

there's a catch in my throat,
and I can no longer sing,
and the rhythm has tumbled
and fallen, and I cannot catch my breath,
but still the silence goes on,
and I can only listen
Mar 2021 · 500
A Garden Dirtpath
Isaac Mar 2021
they say to stop and smell the roses,
but I have only been pricked,
and the only red I've seen is blood
Mar 2021 · 92
timeless mortality
Isaac Mar 2021
like the snow before spring,
i am the last breath of frost in the air,
a bitter goodbye to frozen mornings,
mornings now filled with sunshine and despair

like the flowers in summer,
i am the reflection of aging beauty,
crinkled wrinkles are my cover,
a dried up bloom fulfilling my duty

like the warmth in autumn,
i fall with the leaves, orange,
and blood red, i slumber at the bottom
a fatal rest in a hidden grange

like the tress in winter,
i wilt my wings, nosedive
from the rain, pitter patter,
awaiting the silence to arrive

like the snow before spring,
i collapse once again into the ground,
tired, restless, unable to sing,
the seasons just keep spinning me round
Mar 2021 · 113
merry-go-round
Isaac Mar 2021
and in a beautiful show of collapse all around,
a shower of stars bleaches the ground

beauty fallen, but not from grace
beauty sodden, but not your face

a leaf sobbing in autumn winds,
i am but one of many for whom you sing

a song of light from the silent moon
i listen not for the lyrics, but for your croon

and in a beautiful show of collapse all around,
a glowing breath of life i have found
i live not for the beauty, but for the sound
i live not for the life, but to you i am bound
Mar 2021 · 92
unfinished song
Isaac Mar 2021
and like an unfinished song,
i keel on the verses of empty,
and fall into restless sleep
upon senseless lyrics and
painful choruses

that i am forced to sing,
my throat yielding to the
puppet strings of life, rending
every note, torn into fractions
of a melody so haunting only
i can hear

the facade of beauty erasing
the colours of melancholy,
i am bound to an unfinished song
that is me
Sep 2020 · 76
caving in
Isaac Sep 2020
hollow and thawing
your embrace leaves shadows
in the snow of my heart
melted days and melting nights
a snuffed out flame, shallow
breath, through cracks of
lifeless vein and pointed,
deathly, killer
stalagmites
Aug 2020 · 106
listen
Isaac Aug 2020
as the night sky begins to fall
and the dawn never breaks
listen for the silent call

take shelter in the empty halls
run further still, no time to take
as the night sky begins to fall

shut your eyes, dear, shut the door,
pray to God, for God's sake
listen for the silent call

walk on, walk forward in the drawl
of the thunder and lightning in your wake
as the night sky begins to fall

when hope seems lost as shadows stand tall,
when silence truly starts to ache,
listen for the silent call

as the moon waves goodnight to all
and now you feel so, so small
as the night sky begins to fall
listen for our silent call
Aug 2020 · 94
alarm
Isaac Aug 2020
a ringing, oh so soft,
yet so fragile, sits in my ear
a ghost of a reminder,
that you were once here
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