complicated minds [ a series of poems ]

dark

on days like these, I sit silently in my room,

curtains closed, lights off.

the only light comes from a small crack in the curtain,

reminding me, telling me that there is light.

but I don't see it, I don't see the light ,

instead, I drown in darkness -- in darkness. 

in this room, I can hear the soft whistle of the wind, 

the delicate rustle of trees outside -- 

nature is a beauty that can never be matched nor tamed. 

today, on days like these, I sit silently in room, 

wishing, hoping -- for death. 

in the dark, in the darkness of this world, this room, 

I hope for death.

- a soul so tired, they wish for death