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In the shadows of the walls where laughter once reverberated as a symphony of gleeful bliss, intonational inclines arise in the dark as dancing phantoms haunt the smirking silence which dissipates from the splotched, upended floorboards, while midnight footprints breathlessly creak, cradling the demonizing affirmations whispered, the very ones I knew would never become true. We stood by, powerlessly spectating as the love we once shared gasped for air, red in the face, its gushing carotid bulging in desperation, four lungs incinerating themselves with imminent anticipation of the death gleaming just over the horizon, its violet hues juxtaposing with the glimmering night skies of faded constellations comprising the celestial as moonlit silhouettes waltzed across the water, a bright cerulean rippling in our presence, the genesis of a journey unforeseen. Brutal acceptance rains from my eyes, a rumbling river that reigns supreme over the rounded stones stacked high as a towering dam of branches and rubble, leftover waste long forgotten and forlorn; hometown fantasies of childhood memories linger longer than our lost loyalty, liberating me from the rusted chains you'd stapled into my brittle bones, a leash tied tightly around my throat to **** me from my courageous caution back into the splintered wheel dictating our selfish agendas, empty promises of dilapidated affirmations now turned weary and worn with this newfound sense of reflection, a dichotomy depicting time's own passage, the consequence of a metamorphic resolution of open wounds blossoming into eroded scars. Futuristic visions of lesions now mended seamlessly fuse with renewed self-reception, your broken promises stitched with the threads ripped from the capillaries comprising my core, blood-stained carpet of scarlet and crimson fading into an aged and weathered maroon, never truly waning in its acquainted pigment yet blossoming into a stained fabric portraying the promises of the past, of decayed ruins now industriously erected into a radiant utopia of gallant, rubious valor, the final product of an unyielding resolve to have our story rewritten, our own steadfast evolution.
0
Jan 6, 2024
Jan 6, 2024 at 6:24 PM UTC
An unyielding resolve.
In the shadows of the walls where laughter once reverberated as a symphony of gleeful bliss, intonational inclines arise in the dark as dancing phantoms haunt the smirking silence which dissipates from the splotched, upended floorboards, while midnight footprints breathlessly creak, cradling the demonizing affirmations whispered, the very ones I knew would never become true. We stood by, powerlessly spectating as the love we once shared gasped for air, red in the face, its gushing carotid bulging in desperation, four lungs incinerating themselves with imminent anticipation of the death gleaming just over the horizon, its violet hues juxtaposing with the glimmering night skies of faded constellations comprising the celestial as moonlit silhouettes waltzed across the water, a bright cerulean rippling in our presence, the genesis of a journey unforeseen. Brutal acceptance rains from my eyes, a rumbling river that reigns supreme over the rounded stones stacked high as a towering dam of branches and rubble, leftover waste long forgotten and forlorn; hometown fantasies of childhood memories linger longer than our lost loyalty, liberating me from the rusted chains you'd stapled into my brittle bones, a leash tied tightly around my throat to **** me from my courageous caution back into the splintered wheel dictating our selfish agendas, empty promises of dilapidated affirmations now turned weary and worn with this newfound sense of reflection, a dichotomy depicting time's own passage, the consequence of a metamorphic resolution of open wounds blossoming into eroded scars. Futuristic visions of lesions now mended seamlessly fuse with renewed self-reception, your broken promises stitched with the threads ripped from the capillaries comprising my core, blood-stained carpet of scarlet and crimson fading into an aged and weathered maroon, never truly waning in its acquainted pigment yet blossoming into a stained fabric portraying the promises of the past, of decayed ruins now industriously erected into a radiant utopia of gallant, rubious valor, the final product of an unyielding resolve to have our story rewritten, our own steadfast evolution.
theprofesor
Written by
25/M/Cincy
Jan 6, 2024
Jan 6, 2024 at 6:24 PM UTC
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