A pinch

Dream, illusion, fake vision perhaps

With spark, urge, and electric drive

May memoirs and destiny strike

When I dare to walk, my present of glass

*

This experience is a trap, alas!

For madness, as the good arrives,

Makes the rotten sapling to thrive:

The evil tree which all light blacks

*

But I’ve found out lately

That, when you at night,

This tree venture to climb

*

The stars that bright so briefly

Lend their light to your soul

And the stars coddle your goals...

***

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this sonnet I wrote really as a cathartic experiment to myself. If you liked my work, feel free to check one of my other stories: