Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2010
I thought the night was darkest
Till I saw the corners of your mind,
But I never knew such emptiness
Till I reached inside your eye.
Expectations aren't an illusion
That distortion can't reflect;
Before I was so certain,
Now you have more in all respects.
We who live outbound just don't take in.
We crave for more, desire burns right through our skin.
Yet indulgence remains a sin.  
So I'll lose this game. I just can't win.
Urbaniste Lost
Written by
Urbaniste Lost
674
   Zabava and Shannon Curry
Please log in to view and add comments on poems