Lonely At the Top
LONELY AT THE TOP
Amidst the cheers, a lonesome sound,
A throne of solitude, I have found.
The top is where victory flames brightly burn.
After the wars, I'm still sticking to my gun.
Though my victories swim in melancholy,
Even the laurels didn't bring good jolly.
My eye weep sore in a lamboginny,
the search for serenity births cacophony.
OML!!! How have I gotten here,
Constructing this barren atmosphere?
I've been writing songs from my eyelids,
My voice behind stereos are mere reeds
And my tears are the ink from a ball pen.
Drowning but they never understood back then.
How am I here?
Staring at starry stars with stained stare,
celebrating a fraction in intoxicated cheer,
whereas those victories are mere two-thirds.
I spent an hour writing just four words:
"Lonely At The Top."
Fame offers material love built on tin ropes,
But don't allow adulation to raise your hopes,
Though I see the acme & peak of glory,
a lofty height, where the world views my story.
The top's lonesome throne of solitude,
Still vulnerable despite the fortitude.
My happiness is simply collateral.
My expensive protection isn't even eternal.
Yet my shadow dances in golden light,
Ephemiral ambience is my co delight.
Rubbies are the least I could offer,
Dollars & pounds scattered on my sofa
But a voice keeps telling me it's over
when I was trying to have a ball,
Shopping carelessly in nature's mall.
"You won't be top forever," the voice whispers.
"You'll answer the clarion's call in death fitters."
It's lonely at the top.
VICK MANUEL POETRY
{VMP}
FORM: Rhymes
Copyright ©? October 2023.
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