Sitting upon this old stump
the middle of a forest
dampened with secrets
with actions
with words
with promises
A quiet place with such loud screaming.
At the end of every journey
I always end up here
Left in wonder
an itch inside my skull
a droning hum
a beating drum
hearken to the horrors
suffocate in bliss
ask yourself why
Flying voids and crescent catapults
slither up above.
This quiet place
so empty yet so full.
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 9:37 PM UTC
Sitting upon this old stump
the middle of a forest
dampened with secrets
with actions
with words
with promises
A quiet place with such loud screaming.
At the end of every journey
I always end up here
Left in wonder
an itch inside my skull
a droning hum
a beating drum
hearken to the horrors
suffocate in bliss
ask yourself why
Flying voids and crescent catapults
slither up above.
This quiet place
so empty yet so full.