Black Clothes
Black clothes.
Shadowy souls, monotonous sounds.
Getting late. Patience has blackened out..
I stubbornly wait. Left my attitude behind.
Humble, not blasphemous.
Victim of my mercy.
Black clothes.
Shivering glances and their colours dark.
Getting late. Time has blackened out.
I savor the feelings of urge. Left my intentions behind.
Challenger of my own decay,
yet not a nihilist of the others.
Black clothes.
Poems the cracks, titles the rapists.
Getting late. Hallucinations have blackened out.
I ruined with tears. Left my motives behind.
Comedian, not played out,
parasitic entity of my mind.
Black clothes
in altar.
Copyright © Miltos Gitas | Year Posted 2016
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