It’s a cold and wet night in a dismal part of town
In the yellowing streetlights a drunk staggers home
From the multi-storey car park a man is looking down
Waiting, to be sure he’s alone
He’s listening to the voice that’s all in his head
Telling him that all hope is lost
Filling his heart with despair and with dread
Knowing a line has been crossed
The shadows in the street call for his release
The rhythm of the rain beats a song
Only in the shadows can he find that final peace
Seeking a right from a wrong
When depression falls there comes a time
the soul enters the darker season
There’s no rhythm in life’s rhyme
Rhyme without a reason
The car parks empty, but still it rains
The flashing blues long gone
Rainwater washes away what remains
Of another life gone wrong
About the Creator
sagar dhital
I'm a creative writer in the way that I write. I hold the pen in this unique and creative way you've never seen. The content which I write... well, it's still to be determined if that's any good.
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The Golden Valley
The difference between light and dark could be as quick and simple as a flip of a switch, the drawing of a curtain, the opening of one’s eyes. It could be more gradual like the slow adjustment of the diaphragm on a microscope, the turn of a planet on its axis, the growing light as you approach the end of a tunnel. A flicker in the dark, a steady glow in the distance, a flash in the night sky.
By Alyssa Nicole5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
"There’s no rhythm in life’s rhyme". This was my favourite line. Loved your poem!