No feeling. It's gone.
Touch, desire, longing.
Bare.
Suffocated in sorrow.
Too bright for the darkness.
Empty.
White light spinning in my head,
won't stop shining.
Longing.
Black darkness favored.
Vanishing shadows.
Dead.
Disappearing behind fury.
Feeling lost beyond hope.
When will it come back?
Is there any hope left
to spare?
Was it ever gone?
YOU ARE READING
POISON
PoetryPoetry for those who who like deep works, with twisted stanzas and what not. It includes a bit of poetry for a variety of types of people. Whoever likes it, please leave me your thoughts...
