#47 Chains

44 12 9
                                    

Will your love blossom
in my barren heart?
When you play the guitar
will it pull at my heart strings?

I'm penning these thoughts
in jumbled words on paper.
It feels like an impossible knot to open,
unfathomable and cryptic.
Maybe it's the need of the hour
to pour out my emotions
like a hazy dark smoke
encompassing stars.

In my skull, I keep eyes that stare
soullessly at the cosmos.
A king off of its throne, now a rose
filled with a million sharp thorns.

My mind glazed over by the incredulity
of being, hoping for a musical note
that pulls me out of my misery.
I'm tired of playing a clown in a world
that plays violen like salt
over my wounds.
I am tired of a sun that sinks
at the end of the day and
leaves me alone.

Is money the answer
to all the joy that I seek?
Or is it because I've been
chained too far deep
in my thoughts of a freedom
beyond what I can feel.


*****

Words collected from: _EL1V1NA_

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