There is nothing poetic
In the soul-crushing emptiness
I feel inside.
There is nothing beautiful
In closing my eyes
And never wanting them to open.
There is nothing romantic
In the dark, vast loneliness
That consumes my whole existence.
There is nothing poetic
About existing,
But not living.
There is no beauty in the dark.
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 5:44 PM UTC
There is nothing poetic
In the soul-crushing emptiness
I feel inside.
There is nothing beautiful
In closing my eyes
And never wanting them to open.
There is nothing romantic
In the dark, vast loneliness
That consumes my whole existence.
There is nothing poetic
About existing,
But not living.
There is no beauty in the dark.
