Shattered Kaleidoscope
Fractured Reflections of You
Each shard of my heart reflects a different hue,
Fractured memories swirling, bathed in shades of blue.
One shimmers with laughter, bright and carefree,
Another bleeds crimson, where trust used to be.
Laughter's echo taunts, a twisted serenade,
Of moments stolen, promises betrayed.
I turn the pieces, searching for fragments whole,
But the image remains fractured, a love that took its toll.
Can these reflections mend, form a cohesive whole?
Or will I forever chase remnants, a fragmented soul?
Time paints over shards, with hues of gentle grace,
But will the kaleidoscope ever reveal your true face?
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About the Creator
a broken heart
I write poems to express my feelings since 2020... and now I'm going to start posting them! Love you all :)
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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
Comments (2)
Impressive work! Well written!
This was so profound and I tend to ask myself the same things as well