Surrounded by colorful flowers,
They are weeping and withering,
Without sorrow, without prayer,
But only the quiet wind blowing.
I wake up from the darkness,
couldn't see, couldn't move.
But can feel the phantom pain,
twining around my neck.
Though I don't know what it is
but feel its slender and cold body.
It is hissing, crawling and tightening.
All this makes me more conscious.
At the moment, I knew I was defeated.
I lost miserably against it,
but I know I will not lose myself,
Will not let the soul fall deeply.
Jan 22, 2020
Jan 22, 2020 at 10:18 AM UTC
Surrounded by colorful flowers,
They are weeping and withering,
Without sorrow, without prayer,
But only the quiet wind blowing.
I wake up from the darkness,
couldn't see, couldn't move.
But can feel the phantom pain,
twining around my neck.
Though I don't know what it is
but feel its slender and cold body.
It is hissing, crawling and tightening.
All this makes me more conscious.
At the moment, I knew I was defeated.
I lost miserably against it,
but I know I will not lose myself,
Will not let the soul fall deeply.
Painting inspired poem.
Painting Credit to Dixon Sprock
