Endless roads
That lead to nothing
Blank sheets of paper
That might mean something
Put together the puzzle
Of how it is to be
We are born, we reign, we die
Like a continuous routine of wasted life
But is there any way we can make meaning of it?
Take me back to the time
When love and peace was not too much to ask for.
Take me back to the time
When you'd never give less and you'd always give more
Remind me of sweet casualties
That couldn't temporarily satisfy me
But complete me fulfillingly
Madness is sweet blasphemy
Any valued soul
Craves the feeling of belonging
The same way I feel
And even after all this time
I still look for you
YOU ARE READING
Immutably Numb
PoetryI post sad poems for anything and everything. Mostly things I vent on; if you're interested, check it out
