Devoid

Three petals down, I feel moss-grown...
Nightcore is the tempestuous phrase, 

She feels withdrawn, I reclose,
He indrawn his heart, I disclose... 

Until this night is over,
All alone, I can't fight my fear, 

Trapped in my anxiety, I battle the four walls,
Fragile piety, am a wrecked gall... 

Snugged in my heart, infinitely a hold to.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2021

Poem

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