Emptiness.
Describing it to be nothing, a lapse in the melancholy of matter.
Minding nothing, having nothing perturb it and hence, even if desire should provoke it so to arouse, alas, it cannot.
Wanting to know
Needing to show
These kept feelings
Held deep inside
The endless torrent
Washing over all In whom I confide
But who's this stranger
The faceless desire?
For in nothing I've told the entirety of TRUTH
An absence of knowledge
Whispers in sooth
Rumours I find
In every thought
In every mind
Spreading like flies
All in the call of Summer's lies
Everyone knows me
Or so they claim to believe
Their insatiable desire
To see themselves as wise.
Abandoning REALITY
to DECEPTION and LIES
I now recognize not
These solemn beings of abyss
The beloved stranger from before
Who no longer ceased to exist in my life
I stare at these beings
The people who care
Sitting upon doom
Falling from ruin's stair
In love I share
My life this poem declare..
aBoUt LoVe..
6:46 PM.
