Have u heard the final calling of the Cuckoo
Before the sun sets.
Have you heard the eerie wind blowing
In the most derelict of the ruins
There is a sense of loss.
There is that painful understanding of no return.
And here it is
My Swan song, I decide to write no more
My best words always followed
The worst of my pain.
Now there cant be more of this.
I stare at the abyss.. the dismal darkness
This was a world where I shed my masks.
This was a stage, where I stood stark naked.
Now there cant be more of this.
I stare at the storm.. like a crumbled piece of paper
And before I leave this stage, I would like to announce
Life is "an ugly son of *****
Here is it my folks
Here is my swan Song, I decide to write no more
Nov 23, 2020
Nov 23, 2020 at 3:36 AM UTC
Have u heard the final calling of the Cuckoo
Before the sun sets.
Have you heard the eerie wind blowing
In the most derelict of the ruins
There is a sense of loss.
There is that painful understanding of no return.
And here it is
My Swan song, I decide to write no more
My best words always followed
The worst of my pain.
Now there cant be more of this.
I stare at the abyss.. the dismal darkness
This was a world where I shed my masks.
This was a stage, where I stood stark naked.
Now there cant be more of this.
I stare at the storm.. like a crumbled piece of paper
And before I leave this stage, I would like to announce
Life is "an ugly son of *****
Here is it my folks
Here is my swan Song, I decide to write no more
I decide to write no more. This will be my last piece of poetry.
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