Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2017
In the cottage, I do away with all my fears
Emboldened I stand, though it is nothing but farce
This is the place where dreams die
Here we suffocate, beyond all our years
What resonates is a cloud, this pollution of self
Scratched out resin, the torment of the ******
Another hit stretches night into day
Gloom of lament darkens the dawn
Beseeching, wretched face does not hold
Vanquished by the same token, drawn into the light
Perfectly irregular, blackened skies, pulled deep into the mist
Dredged through drudgery in many years past, apart from this reality
Behold today, new demons arise, supplanting the hollow, frail heart
Seemingly wanes, to become renewed, yet in different forms
Cannot escape, one ditch subverted, though enters another
The haunted, portrayal of a soul inexorably marred
All the change in the world, yet painstakingly the same
Glenn Murawski
Written by
Glenn Murawski  39/M/NY
(39/M/NY)   
85
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems