Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
These halls seem somewhat hollow
A certain sense of sorrow
Now graces ancient stone.
Replacing familiar faces
With defaced family paintings
And cold ancestral bones.
Thrones thrown upon a pyre.
Fate becomes the folly
Tomorrow the unknown,
The brows of time are furrowed
Past spent, lost, or borrowed
Flowers forever bloom alone.
Rats, the last lords of ruin
Rule cruel shadows from the walls.
Twilight sighs at daylight's rise
All seems dark till darkness falls.
You messaged me today
I listened to what you had to say
My heart didn't hurt
You didn't try to flirt
You apologized to me
And said you'd like to see...
You'd like to see me and catch up
I said okay
I could talk to you today
Is this healing
Because I have no feeling
I have no feelings left for you
I can write poetry just like them

‘Mountain regions sweep across stretched plains of silvery skies’

Or poetry like him

‘Mountain sweeps stretching across your
pretty eyes’


But I’d rather write poetry just like me

* The mountain lies before us *.
The joker is sad and doesn't understand any jokes,
The joker is tired,
The joker is going mad.
Next page