A/N: pardon if this sounds uninspired.
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FLY, BIRD
Fly, bird, company I need not.
These sorrows I'd desire to bear
Alone, to clasp the pain of wounds
In my own trembling futile hands,
These sorrows I'd desire to bear
In darkness where I should belong.
Dare not shed on me any light,
For light itself despises me.
Alone, to clasp the pain of wounds--
The hesternal breakage of Mind,
The stigma of my suffering--
Alone, to pass away, forgot.
In my own trembling futile hands
I will attempt to reconstruct
What I can, so, Bird, go your way.
Leave me in this rankling darkness.
YOU ARE READING
Messages from My Soul
PoetryA collection of poems, essays, reflections, and short stories I hope you'll enjoy. ---Israel/deathstarhunter
