Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2019
Drink from the cup of despair
Sweet relief
The respite
Though compared to a usual blanket of compliments
Passed at the table
The cloth
Soaked with lies
Stripped of everything once clear to creep up behind
Turned around once again
Just a tad
To the left or the right
Just to prove we avoided disaster despite many nights
Sleepless
Conscious of whirlpools drowning the pieces inside
Left to rot just beneath
The swirling surface
Forgotten
Abandoned
Left off to the side
For the demons to feed on the one thousandths time
Only one place to hide now
Concerning it might have been foolish to think
That tonight could be different
Yet what kind of idiots are we
But instruments left by our hollowed out shells
Seeking shelter from frightening parts of our lives
Left to deal
Regardless of our consent in this fight
With our selves
For a trophy more meaningless than our will
While our ego grabs hold
And manipulates sense of direction
To steer us to hell
Pylyp
Written by
Pylyp  30/M/California
(30/M/California)   
873
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems