Tears that never show
from pain no one will know.
A life that shouldn't be.
A soul that couldn't see.
A heart that never left the ground.
A voice that can never make a sound,
no matter how much she screams.
Existing is nothing but a bad dream.
Every night she's lonely and cries
knowing that no one tries and everyone lies.
She's just passing by
waiting for the day she will die.
Her tears fall into the sea
yet no ripple can be seen,
for they form no waves
and she knows she'll never be saved.
Each and every moment she longs for death
just to breathe in her very last breath...
About the Creator
Purr Rika
gamer, streamer, cat lover, crafter and a bit of a writer
Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis4 days ago in Humans
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