Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2017
In this room, I sit.
I sit alone as if,
NotΒ Β human exists
or a soul to be seen.
I know I am wrong,
yet it feels so right.
Even if it burns,
I feel as if feeling that way.
There is no other way to feel.
The bitter chilling winds of love, life and old age.
Slowly erode my sanity,
Yet this sanity stands stoically.
Against the tides of time and maelstrom of life.
Now it is a faceless statue.
That stands alone,
With no indicator of who or what had made it.
This is a fate,
that one must accept.
No matter when,
or where.

Β©BAS
Vexren4000
Written by
Vexren4000  Milwaukee Wisonsin
(Milwaukee Wisonsin)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems