The beat of the wings
laced with dusty memories
haunting me as I lay in the swords of grass
as the grey puffs in the sky
release their wet bombs onto me
The trees sway with mimicked exhaustion
the sky groans with an empathetic pain
and then flashes
the light at the end of the tunnel
the sky extinguishes the fire in my heart
You can’t see me there anymore,
don’t waste your time
all that’s left is the echo in the trees
and the scorch mark of my heart.
Jun 7, 2012
Jun 7, 2012 at 9:50 AM UTC
The beat of the wings
laced with dusty memories
haunting me as I lay in the swords of grass
as the grey puffs in the sky
release their wet bombs onto me
The trees sway with mimicked exhaustion
the sky groans with an empathetic pain
and then flashes
the light at the end of the tunnel
the sky extinguishes the fire in my heart
You can’t see me there anymore,
don’t waste your time
all that’s left is the echo in the trees
and the scorch mark of my heart.
