Oh, here ticks the broken clock.
Here enters the lonely hour.
No other body awake,
No soul to confide in.
Here passes little time,
The lonely hour,
It's slows down whatever happens around me,
And forces me to connect with a mind,
That I can't connect to.
Is it dark?
Is it light?
Or can the lonely hour,
Strike at any time?
Is it hot?
Is it cold?
Or can the lonely hour,
Always trap you in it's warm yet icy hold?
The lonely hour crawls in,
The shadows over your walls.
It hides within the light fixtures,
It's hiding in the corners.
It's time once more,
For my lonely hour to creep in,
And hold me hostage,
To my own cracked safe space.
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
Just A Mess
कविताI'm not too sure as to what this is, but I often get bored and lost in my thoughts, so why not write them out? As I wrote I created poetic sentences, lines and phrases. So, I hope they can be enjoyed despite their mainly heavy topics. This book cove...
