I wonder where I will be
When the solemn breath of the emptiness
Puffs over me.
.
Will the fever have broken,
The delusions of greatness gone?
Or will I be crippled by the weight
Of a perfect swan song?
.
Perhaps my temples will still thud
With the pulse of wanting more
And my eyes will ache from the dreams
Carrying me down the rapids
Into the foam.
.
Or perhaps I will tremble and shake and scream
At the unfathomable injustice
That silences unsaid words and rips the heads
From the shoulders of birds,
Drowns me in empty delusions of flight during night
And a sense of wrong or right.
.
The world comes and goes in whispers.
I am woefully stuck
Between an inhale and exhale.
It will shift,
But I can only hear the catch.
The empty space.
.
Silver Serpent Books
.
About the Creator
Silver Serpent Books
Writer. Interested in all the rocks people have forgotten to turn over. There are whole worlds under there, you know. Dark ones too, even better.
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