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#1

Poem

SilverSpoons

Sep 13, 2015

932

1 分鐘

x

From forth the night's nigh,

Awake yet, I lie,

An onslaught, a battle,

Awaits such a tie.

.

What fought for expression,

What was met with repression,

Such now haunting my hoping

With depressing repression.

.

And until I can till

What has not yet distilled,

Thoughts I am weary to feel,

Disregard and touch me still.

.

What claims then my mind,

Such a battle refined,

Allows me to win, only when

I have killed what's inside.

.

But yet, what a knot,

What tied lies, what is not,

I clutch for such anchors,

That soon come to rot.

.

In pity, I grieve,

My loses, though reprieve,

Mending portions of war wounds,

I have yet to deceive.

.

For hope still is fleeting,

And mistakes repeating,

But each night moves forward,

And my demons I'm beating.

.

What a light has emerged,

What a tale has diverged,

For as this too will pass,

And restlessness will be purged.

.

As days weigh down on me,

Unbound, though unfree,

Such angst fades into shades,

Of colors I no longer see.

.

In promises keeping,

In demons defeating,

I find my mind at an ease,

And I find myself sleeping.

ns18.216.71.122da2

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