|
| |
The Image of Him
The Mother Sun no longer embraced me
No more adrenaline rush that motivates me to get up
Breakfast seems bland, faded colors of rotten apple
Unfurled window curtains is the angle that I see
Unheard thoughts of forks lying in the kitchen table
Deafening silence devours me, I am alone with this empty cup
Nostrils reminded me of reek of unlit cigarettes
Counting those days to reminisce about your existence
Comical drama is no longer my daily routine
Friction of emotions ignited thy mere silhouettes
Longing for your gentle touch before when I was your queen
Hear me universe, burn the wick of the candle to end this existence
Silhouettes at the wall is the angle of what I see
Longing for your gentle touch as you held me at your bicep
Unseen towering shadows into my doorstep
Series of dread and pain that hinders me to get up
Void of darkness devours me entirely,
I lost at the battlefield so I ended up not fighting
I hope you're well in that delicate paradise
Only the image of you, picturing this unbrewed coffee
Copyright ©
Joseph Bueno
|
|