Black are my wings,
Darker than a tyrant king,
Dark as the night,
Not worth to flight,
Produces a fake smile,
It's very hostile.
Black are the days,
No golden days,
Laying behind,
Staring blind,
Black are my thoughts,
Can't connect the dots
That's roaming in my head,
It wants me dead.
Black is the world,
All is brutally curled,
It's pitch dark outside
Like everything has died,
Black is all that remains,
Smeared with the fear and the pains,
If I'm fighting no more
That I've been defeated in the war.
Monstrous is my face,
They say I belong in the darkest place,
Bared behind a prison door
Or underneath the basement floor.
About the Creator
Samiha
I'm a fan of poetry. I'm in love with words that are created through imagination.
Babydoll Head In My Closet
This frightening experience occurred when I was about eight years old. I used to sleep on the couch downstairs, next to my dad's bed, because I was afraid of the dark. My mom typically wouldn't get home until around 11pm, so I always slept near my dad for comfort.
By spooky session2 days ago in Poets
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