Fallen Destiny
As the years fickle and fade.
All that remains is our childish memories.
Like toys we break from being handled improperly.
Yet the clock refuses to stop..
And humanity itself continues to crawl alongside its belly.
No one can hear us now in this endless loop of infection.
As fevers play alongside our bed.
Falling beneath the well-being of our sanity..
And sleeping within our dreams.
- Mello
YOU ARE READING
Melancholy Sunday
PoetryBeneath our identities we all want a place to call home. For even the most complex of us. Is still human. - Mello
