the scent of sorrow
rising with the moon
keeps me awake at night
and I am no bee
but I find myself looking for
hearts bleeding nectar.
The one that made a getaway,
He who manages to disappear
Into the crevasses left by silence,
Had no meaningful story,
He was merely lost to the point
that he could never be found.
This isn’t a sombre tale
Of a sad man but that of a traveller,
With skin cold enough to
Leave behind a never-ending
Trail of stars,
Hoping everything that is lost
Could remain lost forever,
For them to be never found.
Disdainful, I need to stop entertaining words
Rather open the cage and let them take flight like free birds
As much as I wish for them to soar and fly
Destined to be trapped in my capricious sky,
I fight for them so they get a chance to breathe
A blade made of oxygen, looked after by the sheath,
An act similar to that of a mirror showcasing my demons
Painted them with meaning, only to fall…