It's all a fallacy, this game we play.
With nothing much to lose,
and oddities to gain.
Dirt drenched kisses linger longer on the lips of shadows.
As the sun chases their nights away,
concocting different tomorrows.
In the passing of life,
we cross over with strife.
Shadows and ghosts dine as friends in hell.
But above the ground,
oh, they keep their separate shells.
Humans live in their shells,
shells of lie, love and lust.
With nothing to give back to one another,
nothing but long lines of agony and despair.
Apr 19, 2021
Apr 19, 2021 at 2:50 PM UTC
It's all a fallacy, this game we play.
With nothing much to lose,
and oddities to gain.
Dirt drenched kisses linger longer on the lips of shadows.
As the sun chases their nights away,
concocting different tomorrows.
In the passing of life,
we cross over with strife.
Shadows and ghosts dine as friends in hell.
But above the ground,
oh, they keep their separate shells.
Humans live in their shells,
shells of lie, love and lust.
With nothing to give back to one another,
nothing but long lines of agony and despair.
Request permission to use this poem