Hidden Treasures (Don't Exist)
A poem about imprisonment
No one knows where you have buried your heart.
Perhaps it is in the muddy sunsets over the city
Or atop some industrial bridge, rusting and sad.
All I know, is that one day you decided to depart,
And left in your wake a torrent of souls too pretty
To suffer the shackles you wrapped around them.
.
You gave them a map to a world that isn't real,
Pumped their heads full of fantastical ideals,
Then watched from your tower as they bled out
Hour by hour, ripping their wrists open,
Only to discover those chains unbroken.
You told them you buried your heart,
And in the play, that was the liar's part.
About the Creator
Silver Daux
Writer of the dark! Think of it like flipping rocks, the weird little stories underneath are my jam and jelly. Jam and butter? Just jam. Absolutely no use of AI in any of my works :)
Ah, also:
Tiktok/Insta: harbingerofsnake
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